ROOM  NUMBER 

3 


KATHARINE 
GREEN 


S.  EDWIN  CORLE,  JR. 

HIS   BOOK 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 

IN  MEMORY  OF 
MRS.  VIRGINIA  B.  SPORER 


ROOM 
NUMBER  3 


AND  OTHER  DETECTIVE  STORIES 


By  ANNA  KATHARINE  GREENE 

AUTHOR  OF 

"The  Mystery  of  The  Hasty  Arrow," 
"The  Golden  Slipper,"    "That  Affair  Next  Door,'*  etc. 


A.  L.  BURT  COMPANY 
Publishers  New  York 

Published  by  arrangement  with  DODD,  MEAD  &  COMPANY 


COPYRIGHT,  1912,  BY 
ANNA  KATHARINE  GREEN 

COPYRIGHT,  iqoo,  1910,  BY 
THE  CROWELL  PUBLISHING  CO. 

COPYRIGHT,  1910,  BY 
ABBOTT  &  BRIGGS  INC. 

COPYRIGHT,  1913,  BY 
DODD,  MEAD  &  COMPANY 
At  "  Masterpieces  of  Mystery  " 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

I  ROOM  NUMBER  3     .        .        .        .  3 

II  MIDNIGHT  IN  BEAUCHAMP  Row      .  85 

III  THE  RUBY  AND  THE  CALDRON         .  107 

IV  THE  LITTLE  STEEL  COILS         .         .  149 

V  THE  STAIRCASE  AT  HEART'S  DELIGHT  181 

VI  THE  AMETHYST  Box        .         .         .  209 

VII  THE  GREY  LADY     .         .         .         .3" 

VIII  THE  THIEF 339 

IX  THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST       .         .  369 


2039213 


ROOM  NUMBER  3 


I 

"  WHAT  door  is  that  ?  You've  opened  all  the  others ; 
why  do  you  pass  that  one  by?  " 

"Oh,  that!  That's  only  Number  3.  A  mere 
closet,  gentlemen,"  responded  the  landlord  in  a 
pleasant  voice.  "  To  be  sure,  we  sometimes  use  it 
as  a  sleeping-room  when  we  are  hard  pushed.  Jake, 
the  clerk  you  saw  below,  used  it  last  night.  But  it's 
not  on  our  regular  list.  Do  you  want  a  peep  at  it?  " 

"  Most  assuredly.  As  you  know,  it's  our  duty  to 
see  every  room  in  this  house,  whether  it  is  on  your 
regular  list  or  not." 

"  All  right.  I  haven't  the  key  of  this  one  with 
me.  But — yes,  I  have.  There,  gentlemen !  "  he 
cried,  unlocking  the  door  and  holding  it  open  for 
them  to  look  inside.  "  You  see  it  no  more  answers 
the  young  lady's  description  than  the  others  do. 
And  I  haven't  another  to  show  you.  You  have  seen 
all  those  in  front,  and  this  is  the  last  one  in  the  rear. 
You'll  have  to  believe  our  story.  The  old  lady 
never  put  foot  in  this  tavern." 

The  two  men  he  addressed  peered  into  the 
shadowy  recesses  before  them,  and  one  of  them,  a 
tall  and  uncommonly  good-looking  young  man  of 
stalwart  build  and  unusually  earnest  manner,  stepped 
soTtly  inside.  He  was  a  gentleman  farmer  living 
near,  recently  appointed  deputy  sheriff  on  account 


4  ROOM  NUMBER  3 

of  a  recent  outbreak  of  horse-stealing  in  the 
neighbourhood. 

"  I  observe,"  he  remarked,  after  a  hurried  glance 
about  him,  "  that  the  paper  on  these  walls  is  not  at 
all  like  that  she  describes.  She  was  very  particular 
about  the  paper;  said  that  it  was  of  a  muddy  pink 
colour  and  had  big  scrolls  on  it  which  seemed  to 
move  and  crawl  about  in  whirls  as  you  looked  at  it. 
This  paper  is  blue  and  striped.  Otherwise " 

"  Let's  go  below,"  suggested  his  companion,  who, 
from  the  deference  with  which  his  most  casual  word 
was  received,  was  evidently  a  man  of  some  authority. 
**  It's  cold  here,  and  there  are  several  new  questions 
I  should  like  to  put  to  the  young  lady.  Mr. 
Quimby," — this  to  the  landlord,  "  I've  no  doubt  you 
are  right,  but  we'll  give  this  poor  girl  another 
chance.  I  believe  in  giving  every  one  the  utmost 
chance  possible." 

"  My  reputation  is  in  your  hands,  Coroner 
Golden,"  was  the  quiet  reply.  Then,  as  they  both 
turned,  *'  my  reputation  against  the  word  of  an 
obviously  demented  girl." 

The  words  made  their  own  echo.  As  the  third 
man  moved  to  follow  the  other  two  into  the  hall, 
he  seemed  to  catch  this  echo,  for  he  involuntarily 
cast  another  look  behind  him  as  if  expectant  of  some 
contradiction  reaching  him  from  the  bare  and 
melancholy  walls  he  was  leaving.  But  no  such  con- 
tradiction came.  Instead,  he  appeared  to  read  con- 
firmation there  of  the  landlord's  plain  and  unem- 
bittered  statement.  The  dull  blue  paper  with  its 


ROOM  NUMBER  3  5 

old-fashioned  and  uninteresting  stripes  seemed  to 
have  disfigured  the  walls  for  years.  It  was  not  only 
grimy  with  age,  but  showed  here  and  there  huge 
discoloured  spots,  especially  around  the  stovepipe- 
hole  high  up  on  the  left-hand  side.  Certainly  he 
was  a  dreamer  to  doubt  such  plain  evidences  as 
these.  Yet 

Here  his  eye  encountered  Quimby's,  and  pulling 
himself  up  short,  he  hastily  fell  into  the  wake  of  his 
comrade  now  hastening  down  the  narrow  passage 
to  the  wider  hall  in  front.  Had  it  occurred  to  him 
to  turn  again  before  rounding  the  corner — but  no, 
I  doubt  if  he  would  have  learned  anything  even 
then.  The  closing  of  a  door  by  a  careful  hand — 
the  slipping  up  behind  him  of  an  eager  and  noise- 
less step — what  is  there  in  these  to  re-awaken 
curiosity  and  fix  suspicion?  Nothing,  when  the  man 
concerned  is  Jacob  Quimby;  nothing.  Better  that 
he  failed  to  look  back;  it  left  his  judgment  freer  for 
the  question  confronting  him  in  the  room  below. 

Three  Forks  Tavern  has  been  long  forgotten,  but 
at  the  time  of  which  I  write  it  was  a  well-known 
but  little-frequented  house,  situated  just  back  of  the 
highway  on  the  verge  of  the  forest  lying  between 
the  two  towns  of  Chester  and  Danton  in  southern 
Ohio.  It  was  of  ancient  build,  and  had  all  the  pic- 
turesquesness  of  age  and  the  English  traditions  of 
its  original  builder.  Though  so  near  two  thriving 
towns,  it  retained  its  own  quality  of  apparent  re- 
moteness from  city  life  and  city  ways.  This  in  a 
measure  was  made  possible  by  the  nearness  of  the 


6  ROOM  NUMBER  3 

woods  which  almost  enveloped  it;  but  the  character 
of  the  man  who  ran  it  had  still  more  to  do  with  it, 
his  sympathies  being  entirely  with  the  old,  and  not 
at  all  with  the  new,  as  witness  the  old-style  glazing 
still  retained  in  its  ancient  doorway.  This,  while 
it  appealed  to  a  certain  class  of  summer  boarders, 
did  not  so  much  meet  the  wants  of  the  casual  trav- 
eller, so  that  while  the  house  might  from  some  rea- 
son or  other  be  overfilled  one  night,  it  was  just  as 
likely  to  be  almost  empty  the  next,  save  for  the 
faithful  few  who  loved  the  woods  and  the  ancient 
ways  of  the  easy-mannered  host  and  his  attentive, 
soft-stepping  help.  The  building  itself  was  of 
wooden  construction,  high  in  front  and  low  in  the 
rear,  with  gables  toward  the  highway,  projecting 
here  and  there  above  a  strip  of  rude  old-fashioned 
carving.  These  gables  were  new,  that  is,  they  were 
only  a  century  old;  the  portion  now  called  the  ex- 
tension, in  the  passages  of  which  we  first  found  the 
men  we  have  introduced  to  you,  was  the  original 
house.  Then  it  may  have  enjoyed  the  sunshine  and 
air  of  the  valley  it  overlooked,  but  now  it  was  so 
hemmed  in  by  yards  and  outbuildings  as  to  be  con- 
sidered the  most  undesirable  part  of  the  house,  and 
Number  3  the  most  undesirable  of  its  rooms;  which 
certainly  does  not  speak  well  for  it. 

But  we  are  getting  away  from  our  new  friends 
and  their  mysterious  errand.  As  I  have  already 
intimated,  this  tavern  with  the  curious  name  (a 
name  totally  unsuggestive,  by  the  way,  of  its  loca- 
tion on  a  perfectly  straight  road)  had  for  its  south- 


ROOM  NUMBER  3  7 

ern  aspect  the  road  and  a  broad  expanse  beyond  of 
varied  landscape  which  made  the  front  rooms  cheer- 
ful even  on  a  cloudy  day ;  but  it  was  otherwise  with 
those  in  the  rear  and  on  the  north  end.  They  were 
never  cheerful,  and  especially  toward  night  were 
frequently  so  dark  that  artificial  light  was  resorted 
to  as  early  as  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  It  was 
so  to-day  in  the  remote  parlour  which  these  three 
now  entered.  A  lamp  had  been  lit,  though  the  day- 
light still  struggled  feebly  in,  and  it  was  in  this  con- 
flicting light  that  there  rose  up  before  them  the 
vision  of  a  woman,  who  seen  at  any  time  and  in  any 
place  would  have  drawn,  if  not  held,  the  eye,  but 
seen  in  her  present  attitude  and  at  such  a  moment 
of  question  and  suspense,  struck  the  imagination 
with  a  force  likely  to  fix  her  image  forever  in 
the  mind,  if  not  in  the  heart,  of  a  sympathetic 
observer. 

I  should  like  to  picture  her  as  she  stood  there, 
because  the  impression  she  made  at  this  instant  de- 
termined the  future  action  of  the  man  I  have  intro- 
duced to  you  as  not  quite  satisfied  with  the  appear^ 
ances  he  had  observed  above.  Young,  slender  but 
vigorous,  with  a  face  whose  details  you  missed  in 
the  fire  of  her  eye  and  the  wonderful  red  of  her 
young,  fresh  but  determined  mouth,  she  stood,  on 
guard  as  it  were,  before  a  shrouded  form  on  a 
couch  at  the  far  end  of  the  room.  An  imperative 
Keep  back!  spoke  in  her  look,  her  attitude,  and  the 
silent  gesture  of  one  outspread  hand,  but  it  was  the 
Keep  back!  of  love,  not  of  fear,  the  command  of 


8  ROOM  NUMBER  3 

an  outraged  soul,  conscious  of  its  rights  and  in- 
stinctively alert  to  maintain  them. 

The  landlord  at  sight  of  the  rebuke  thus  given 
to  their  intrusion,  stepped  forward  with  a  concilia- 
tory bow. 

"  I  beg  pardon,"  said  he,  "  but  these  gentlemen, 
Doctor  Golden,  the  coroner  from  Chester,  and  Mr. 
Hammersmith,  wish  to  ask  you  a  few  more  ques- 
tions about  your  mother's  death.  You  will  answer 
them,  I  am  sure." 

Slowly  her  eyes  moved  till  they  met  those  of  the 
speaker. 

"  I  am  anxious  to  do  so,"  said  she,  in  a  voice  rich 
with  many  emotions.  But  seeing  the  open  compas- 
sion in  the  landlord's  face,  the  colour  left  her 
cheeks,  almost  her  lips,  and  drawing  back  the  hand 
whtch  she  had  continued  to  hold  outstretched,  she 
threw  a  glance  of  helpless  inquiry  about  her  which 
touched  the  younger  man's  heart  and  induced  him 
to  say: 

"  The  truth  should  not  be  hard  to  find  in  a  case 
like  this.  I'm  sure  the  young  lady  can  explain. 
Doctor  Golden,  are  you  ready  for  her  story?  " 

The  coroner,  who  had  been  silent  up  till  now, 
probably  from  sheer  surprise  at  the  beauty  and  sim- 
ple, natural  elegance  of  the  woman  caught,  as  he 
believed,  in  a  net  of  dreadful  tragedy,  roused  him- 
self at  this  direct  question,  and  bowing  with  an  as- 
sumption of  dignity  far  from  encouraging  to  the 
man  and  woman  anxiously  watching  him,  replied: 

"  We  will  hear  what  she  has  to  say,  of  course, 


ROOM  NUMBER  3  9 

but  the  facts  are  well  known.  The  woman  she  calls 
mother  was  found  early  this  morning  lying  on  her 
face  in  the  adjoining  woods  quite  dead.  She  had 
fallen  over  a  half-concealed  root,  and  with  such 
force  that  she  never  moved  again.  If  her  daughter 
was  with  her  at  the  time,  then  that  daughter  fled 
without  attempting  to  raise  her.  The  condition  and 
position  of  the  wound  on  the  dead  woman's  fore- 
head, together  with  such  corroborative  facts  as  have 
since  come  to  light,  preclude  all  argument  on  this 
point.  But  we'll  listen  to  the  young  woman,  not- 
withstanding; she  has  a  right  to  speak,  and  she  shall 
speak.  Did  not  your  mother  die  in  the  woods?  No 
hocus-pocus,  miss,  but  the  plain  unvarnished  truth." 

"  Sirs," — the  term  was  general,  but  her  appeal 
appeared  to  be  directed  solely  to  the  one  sympathetic 
figure  before  her,  "  if  my  mother  died  in  the  wood — 
and,  for  all  I  can  say,  she  may  have  done  so — it  was 
not  till  after  she  had  been  in  this  house.  She  ar- 
rived in  my  company,  and  was  given  a  room.  I  saw 
the  room  and  I  saw  her  in  it.  I  cannot  be  deceived 
in  this.  If  I  am,  then  my  mind  has  suddenly  failed 
me; — something  which  I  find  it  hard  to  believe." 

"  Mr.  Quimby,  did  Mrs.  Demarest  come  to  the 
house  with  Miss  Demarest?"  inquired  Mr.  Ham- 
mersmith of  the  silent  landlord. 

"  She  says  so,"  was  the  reply,  accompanied  by  a 
compassionate  shrug  which  spoke  volumes.  "  And 
I  am  quite  sure  she  means  it,"  he  added,  with  kindly 
emphasis.  "  But  ask  Jake,  who  was  in  the  office  all 
the  evening.  Ask  my  wife,  who  saw  the  young  lady 


io  ROOM  NUMBER  3 

to  her  room.  Ask  anybody  and  everybody  who  was 
around  the  tavern  last  night.  I'm  not  the  only  one 
to  say  that  Miss  Demarest  came  in  alone.  All  will 
tell  you  that  she  arrived  here  without  escort  of  any 
kind;  declined  supper,  but  wanted  a  room,  and  when 
I  hesitated  to  give  it  to  her,  said  by  way  of  explana- 
tion of  her  lack  of  a  companion  that  she  had  had 
trouble  in  Chester  and  had  left  town  very  hurriedly 
for  her  home.  That  her  mother  was  coming  to 
meet  her  and  would  probably  arrive  here  very  soon. 
That  when  this  occurred  I  was  to  notify  her;  but  if 
a  gentleman  called  instead,  I  was  to  be  very  care- 
ful not  to  admit  that  any  such  person  as  herself 
was  in  the  house.  Indeed,  to  avoid  any  such  possi- 
bility she  prayed  that  her  name  might  be  left  off 
the  register — a  favour  which  I  was  slow  in  granting 
her,  but  which  I  finally  did,  as  you  can  see  for  your- 
selves." 

"  Oh !  "  came  in  indignant  exclamation  from  the 
young  woman  before  them.  "  I  understand  my  po- 
sition now.  This  man  has  a  bad  conscience.  He 
has  something  to  hide,  or  he  would  not  take  to  lying 
about  little  things  like  that.  I  never  asked  him  'to 
allow  me  to  leave  my  name  off  the  register.  On 
the  contrary  I  wrote  my  name  in  it  and  my  mother's 
name,  too.  Let  him  bring  the  book  here  and  you 
will  see." 

"  We  have  seen,"  responded  the  coroner.  "  We 
looked  in  the  register  ourselves.  Your  names  are 
not  there." 

The  flush  of  indignation  which  had  crimsoned  her 


ROOM  NUMBER  3  11 

cheeks  faded  till  she  looked  as  startling  and  indi- 
vidual in  her  pallor  as  she  had  the  moment  before 
in  her  passionate  bloom. 

"Not  there?"  fell  from  her  lips  in  a  frozen 
monotone  as  her  eyes  grew  fixed  upon  the  faces  be- 
fore her  and  her  hand  went  groping  around  for  some 
support. 

Mr.  Hammersmith  approached  with  a  chair. 

"  Sit,"  he  whispered.  Then,  as  she  sank  slowly 
into  an  attitude  of  repose,  he  added  gently,  "  You 
shall  have  every  consideration.  Only  tell  the  truth, 
the  exact  truth  without  any  heightening  from  your 
imagination,  and,  above  all,  don't  be  frightened." 

She  may  have  heard  his  words,  but  she  gave  no 
sign  of  comprehending  them.  She  was  following 
the  movements  of  the  landlord,  who  had  slipped  out 
to  procure  the  register,  and  now  stood  holding  it 
out  toward  the  coroner. 

"  Let  her  see  for  herself,"  he  suggested,  with  a 
bland,  almost  fatherly,  air. 

Doctor  Golden  took  the  book  and  approached 
Miss  Demarest. 

,»  "  Here  is  a  name  very  unlike  yours,"  he  pointed 
out,  as  her  eye  fell  on  the  page  he  had  opened  to. 
"  Annette  Colvin,  Lansing,  Michigan." 

"  That  is  not  my  name  or  writing,"  said  she. 

"  There  is  room  below  it  for  your  name  and  that 
of  your  mother,  but  the  space  is  blank,  do  you  see?  " 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  see,"  she  admitted.  "  Yet  I  wrote 
my  name  in  the  book!  Or  is  it  all  a  monstrous 
dream!" 


12  ROOM  NUMBER  3 

The  coroner  returned  the  book  to  the  landlord. 

"  Is  this  your  only  book?  "  he  asked. 

"  The  only  book." 

Miss  Demarest's  eyes  flashed.  Hammersmith, 
who  had  watched  this  scene  with  intense  interest, 
saw,  or  believed  that  he  saw,  in  this  flash  the  natural 
indignation  of  a  candid  mind  face  to  face  with  ar- 
rant knavery.  But  when  he  forced  himself  to  con- 
sider the  complacent  Quimby  he  did  not  know  what 
to  think.  His  aspect  of  self-confidence  equalled  hers. 
Indeed,  he  showed  the  greater  poise.  Yet  her  tones 
rang  true  as  she  cried : 

"  You  made  up  one  plausible  story,  and  you  may 
well  make  up  another.  I  demand  the  privilege  of 
relating  the  whole  occurrence  as  I  remember  it," 
she  continued  with  an  appealing  look  in  the  one 
sympathetic  direction.  "  Then  you  can  listen  to 
him." 

"  We  desire  nothing  better,"  returned  the  cor- 
oner. 

"  I  shall  have  to  mention  a  circumstance  very 
mortifying  to  myself,"  she  proceeded,  with  a  sudden 
effort  at  self-control,  which  commanded  the  admira- 
tion even  of  the  coroner.  "  My  one  adviser  is 
dead,"  here  her  eyes  flashed  for  a  moment  toward 
the  silent  form  behind  her.  "  If  I  make  mistakes, 
if  I  seem  unwomanly — but  you  have  asked  for  the 
truth  and  you  shall  have  it,  all  of  it.  I  have  no 
father.  Since  early  this  morning  I  have  had  no 
mother.  But  when  I  had,  I  found  it  my  duty  to 
work  for  her  as  well  as  for  myself,  that  she  might 


ROOM  NUMBER  3  13 

have  the  comforts  she  had  been  used  to  and  could 
no  longer  afford.  For  this  purpose  I  sought  a  sit- 
uation in  Chester,  and  found  one  in  a  family  I  had 
rather  not  name."  A  momentary  tremor,  quickly 
suppressed,  betrayed  the  agitation  which  this  allu- 
sion cost  her.  "  My  mother  lived  in  Danton  (the 
next  town  to  the  left) .  Anybody  there  will  tell  you 
what  a  good  woman  she  was.  I  had  wished  her 
to  live  in  Chester  (that  is,  at  first;  later,  I — I  was 
glad  she  didn't),  but  she  had  been  born  in  Danton, 
and  could  not  accustom  herself  to  strange  surround- 
ings. Once  a  week  I  went  home,  and  once  a  week, 
usually  on  a  Wednesday,  she  would  come  and  meet 
me  on  the  highroad,  for  a  little  visit.  Once  we 
met  here,  but  this  is  a  circumstance  no  one  seems 
to  remember.  I  was  very  fond  of  my  mother  and 
she  of  me.  Had  I  loved  no  one  else,  I  should 
have  been  happy  still,  and  not  been  obliged  to  face 
strangers  over  her  body  and  bare  the  secrets  of  my 
heart  to  preserve  my  good  name.  There  is  a  man, 
he  seems  a  thousand  miles  away  from  me  now,  so 
much  have  I  lived  since  yesterday.  He — he  lived 
in  the  house  where  I  did — was  one  of  the  family — 
always  at  table — always  before  my  eyes.  He 
fancied  me.  I — I  might  have  fancied  him  had  he 
been  a  better  man.  But  he  was  far  from  being  of 
the  sort  my  mother  approved,  and  when  he  urged 
his  suit  too  far,  I  grew  frightened  and  finally  ran 
away.  It  was  not  so  much  that  I  could  not  trust 
him,"  she  bravely  added  after  a  moment  of  silent 
confusion,  "  but  that  I  could  not  trust  myself.  He 


i4  ROOM  NUMBER  3 

had  an  unfortunate  influence  over  me,  which  I  hated 
while  I  half  yielded  to  it." 

"  You  ran  away.    When  was  this?  " 

"  Yesterday  afternoon  at  about  six.  He  had 
vowed  that  he  would  see  me  again  before  the  even- 
ing was  over,  and  I  took  that  way  to  prevent  a 
meeting.  There  was  no  other  so  simple, — or  such 
was  my  thought  at  the  time.  I  did  not  dream  that 
sorrows  awaited  me  in  this  quiet  tavern,  and  per- 
plexities so  much  greater  than  any  which  could  have 
followed  a  meeting  with  him  that  I  feel  my  reason 
fail  when  I  contemplate  them." 

"  Go  on,"  urged  the  coroner,  after  a  moment  of 
uneasy  silence.  "  Let  us  hear  what  happened  after 
you  left  your  home  in  Chester." 

"  I  went  straight  to  the  nearest  telegraph  office, 
and  sent  a  message  to  my  mother.  I  told  her  I  was 
coming  home,  and  for  her  to  meet  me  on  the  road 
near  this  tavern.  Then  I  went  to  Hudson's  and  had 
supper,  for  I  had  not  eaten  before  leaving  my  em- 
ployer's. The  sun  had  set  when  I  finally  started, 
and  I  walked  fast  so  as  to  reach  Three  Forks  before 
dark.  If  my  mother  had  got  the  telegram  at  once, 
which  I  calculated  on  her  doing,  as  she  lived  next 
door  to  the  telegraph  office  in  Danton,  she  would 
be  very  near  this  place  on  my  arrival  here.  So  I 
began  to  look  for  her  as  soon  as  I  entered  the  woods. 
But  I  did  not  see  her.  I  came  as  far  as  the  tavern 
door,  and  still  I  did  not  see  her.  But  farther  on, 
just  where  the  road  turns  to  cross  the  railroad-track, 
I  spied  her  coming,  and  ran  to  meet  her.  She  was 


ROOM  NUMBER  3  15 

glad  to  see  me,  but  asked  a  good  many  questions 
which  I  had  some  difficulty  in  answering.  She  saw 
this,  and  held  me  to  the  matter  till  I  had  satisfied  her. 
When  this  was  done  it  was  late  and  cold,  and  we 
decided  to  come  to  the  tavern  for  the  night.  And 
we  came!  Nothing  shall  ever  make  me  deny  so 
positive  a  fact.  We  came,  and  this  man  received 
us." 

With  her  final  repetition  of  this  assertion,  she 
rose  and  now  stood  upright,  with  her  finger  pointing 
straight  at  Quimby.  Had  he  cringed  or  let  his  eyes 
waver  from  hers  by  so  much  as  a  hair's  breadth,  her 
accusation  would  have  stood  and  her  cause  been 
won.  But  not  a  flicker  disturbed  the  steady  patience 
of  his  look,  and  Hammersmith,  who  had  made  no 
effort  to  hide  his  anxiety  to  believe  her  story,  showed 
his  disappointment  with  equal  frankness  as  he 
asked: 

"Who  else  was  in  the  office?  Surely  Mr. 
Quimby  was  not  there  alone?  " 

She  reseated  herself  before  answering.  Ham- 
mersmith could  see  the  effort  she  made  to  recall 
that  simple  scene.  He  found  himself  trying  to  re- 
call it,  too — the  old-fashioned,  smoke-begrimed  of- 
fice, with  its  one  long  window  toward  the  road  and 
the  glass-paned  door  leading  into  the  hall  of  en- 
trance They  had  come  in  by  that  door  and  crossed 
to  the  bar,  which  was  also  the  desk  in  this  curious 
old  hostelry.  He  could  see  them  standing  there  in 
the  light  of  possibly  a  solitary  lamp,  the  rest  of  the 
room  in  shadow  unless  a  game  of  checkers  were  on, 


i6  ROOM  NUMBER  «> 

which  evidently  was  not  so  on  this  night.  Had  she 
turned  her  head  to  peer  into  those  shadows?  It 
was  not  likely.  She  was  supported  by  her  mother's 
presence,  and  this  she  was  going  to  say.  By  some 
strange  telepathy  that  he  would  have  laughed  at 
a  few  hours  before,  he  feels  confident  of  her  words 
before  she  speaks.  Yet  he  listens  intently  as  she 
finally  looks  up  and  answers: 

"  There  was  a  man,  I  am  sure  there  was  a  man 
somewhere  at  the  other  end  of  the  office.  But  I 
paid  no  attention  to  him.  I  was  bargaining  for  two 
rooms  and  registering  my  name  and  that  of  my 
mother." 

"Two  rooms;  why  two?  You  are  not  a  fash- 
ionable young  lady  to  require  a  room  alone." 

"  Gentlemen,  I  was  tired.  I  had  been  through 
a  wearing  half-hour.  I  knew  that  if  we  occupied 
the  same  room  or  even  adjoining  ones  that  nothing 
could  keep  us  from  a  night  of  useless  and  depressing 
conversation.  I  did  not  feel  equal  to  it,  so  I  asked 
for  two  rooms  a  short  distance  apart." 

An  explanation  which  could  at  least  be  accepted. 
Mr.  Hammersmith  felt  an  increase  of  courage 
and  scarcely  winced  as  his  colder-blooded  com- 
panion continued  this  unofficial  examination  by 
asking : 

"  Where  were  you  standing  when  making  these 
arrangements  with  Mr.  Quimby?  " 

"  Right  before  the  desk." 

"  And  your  mother?  " 

"  She  was  at  my  left  and  a  little  behind  me.    She 


ROOM  NUMBER  3  17 

was  a  shy  woman.  I  usually  took  the  lead  when  we 
were  together." 

"  Was  she  veiled?  "  the  coroner  continued  quietly. 

"  I  think  so.  She  had  been  crying "  The 

bereaved  daughter  paused. 

"  But  don't  you  know?  " 

"  My  impression  is  that  her  veil  was  down  when 
we  came  into  the  room.  She  may  have  lifted  it  as 
she  stood  there.  I  know  that  it  was  lifted  as  we 
went  upstairs.  I  remember  feeling  glad  that  the 
lamps  gave  so  poor  a  light,  she  looked  so  dis- 
tressed." 

"  Physically,  do  you  mean,  or  mentally?  " 

Mr.  Hammersmith  asked  this  question.  It 
seemed  to  rouse  some  new  train  of  thought  in  the 
girl's  mind.  For  a  minute  she  looked  intently  at 
the  speaker,  then  she  replied  in  a  disturbed  tone: 

"  Both.  I  wonder "  Here  her  thought  wav- 
ered and  she  ceased. 

"  Go  on,"  ordered  the  coroner  impatiently. 
"  Tell  your  story.  It  contradicts  that  of  the  land- 
lord in  almost  every  point,  but  we've  promised  to 
hear  it  out,  and  we  will." 

Rousing,  she  hastened  to  obey  him. 

44  Mr.  Quimby  told  the  truth  when  he  said  that 
he  asked  me  if  I  would  have  supper,  also  when  he 
repeated  what  I  said  about  a  gentleman,  but  not 
when  he  declared  that  I  wished  to  be  told  if  my 
mother  should  come  and  ask  for  me.  My  mother 
was  at  my  side  all  the  time  we  stood  there  talking, 
and  I  did  not  need  to  make  any  requests  concerning 


1 8  ROOM  NUMBER  3 

her.  When  we  went  to  our  rooms  a  woman  accom- 
panied us.  He  says  she  is  his  wife.  I  should  like 
to  see  that  woman." 

"  I  am  here,  miss,"  spoke  up  a  voice  from  a 
murky  corner  no  one  had  thought  of  looking  in  till 
now. 

Miss  Demarest  at  once  rose,  waiting  for  the 
woman  to  come  forward.  This  she  did  with  a  quick, 
natural  step  which  insensibly  prepared  the  mind  for 
the  brisk,  assertive  woman  who  now  presented  her- 
self. Mr.  Hammersmith,  at  sight  of  her  open,  not 
unpleasing  face,  understood  for  the  first  time  the 
decided  attitude  of  the  coroner.  If  this  woman  cor- 
roborated her  husband's  account,  the  poor  young 
girl,  with  her  incongruous  beauty  and  emotional 
temperament,  would  not  have  much  show.  He 
looked  to  see  her  quailing  now.  But  instead  of  that 
she  stood  firm,  determined,  and  feverishly  beautiful. 

"  Let  her  tell  you  what  took  place  upstairs,"  she 
cried.  "  She  showed  us  the  rooms  and  carried  water 
afterward  to  the  one  my  mother  occupied." 

"  I  am  sorry  to  contradict  the  young  lady,"  came 
in  even  tones  from  the  unembarrassed,  motherly- 
looking  woman  thus  appealed  to.  "  She  thinks  that 
her  mother  was  with  her  and  that  I  conducted  this 
mother  to  another  room  after  showing  her  to  her 
own.  I  don't  doubt  in  the  least  that  she  has  worked 
herself  up  to  the  point  of  absolutely  believing  this. 
But  the  facts  are  these:  She  came  alone  and  went 
to  her  room  unattended  by  any  one  but  my- 
self. And  what  is  more,  she  seemed  entirely  com- 


ROOM  NUMBER  3  19 

posed  at  the  time,  and  I  never  thought  of  suspect- 
ing the  least  thing  wrong.  Yet  her  mother  lay  all 
that  time  in  the  wood " 

"Silence!" 

This  word  was  shot  at  her  by  Miss  Demarest, 
who  had  risen  to  her  full  height  and  now  fairly 
flamed  upon  them  all  in  her  passionate  indignation. 
"  I  will  not  listen  to  such  words  till  I  have  finished 
all  I  have  to  say  and  put  these  liars  to  the  blush. 
My  mother  was  with  me,  and  this  woman  witnessed 
our  good-night  embrace,  and  then  showed  my 
mother  to  her  own  room.  I  watched  them  going. 
They  went  down  the  hall  to  the  left  and  around  a 
certain  corner.  I  stood  looking  after  them  till  they 
turned  this  corner,  then  I  closed  my  door  and  be- 
gan to  take  off  my  hat.  But  I  wasn't  quite  satis- 
fied with  the  good-night  which  had  passed  between 
my  poor  mother  and  myself,  and  presently  I  opened 
my  door  and  ran  down  the  hall  and  around  the 
corner  on  a  chance  of  finding  her  room.  I  don't 
remember  very  well  how  that  hall  looked.  I  passed 
several  doors  seemingly  shut  for  the  night,  and 
should  have  turned  back,  confused,  if  at  that  mo- 
ment I  had  not  spied  the  landlady's  figure,  your 
figure,  madam,  coming  out  of  one  room  on  your 
way  to  another.  You  were  carrying  a  pitcher,  and 
I  made  haste  and  ran  after  you  and  reached  the 
door  just  before  you  turned  to  shut  it.  Can  you 
deny  that,  or  that  you  stepped  aside  while  I  ran 
in  and  gave  my  mother  another  hug?  If  you  can 
and  do,  then  you  are  a  dangerous  and  lying  wo- 


20  ROOM  NUMBER  3 

man,  or  I But  I  won't  admit  that  I'm  not  all 

right.  It  is  you,  base  and  untruthful  woman,  who 
for  some  end  I  cannot  fathom  persist  in  denying 
facts  on  which  my  honour,  if  not  my  life,  depends. 
Why,  gentlemen,  you,  one  of  you  at  least,  have 
heard  me  describe  the  very  room  in  which  I  saw 
my  mother.  It  is  imprinted  on  my  mind.  I  didn't 
know  at  the  time  that  I  took  especial  notice  of  it, 
but  hardly  a  detail  escaped  me.  The  paper  on  the 
wall " 

"  We  have  been  looking  through  the  rooms," 
interpolated  the  coroner.  "  We  do  not  find  any 
papered  with  the  muddy  pink  you  talk  about." 

She  stared,  drew  back  from  them  all,  and  finally 

sank  into  a  chair.  "  You  do  not  find But  you 

have  not  been  shown  them  all." 

"  I  think  so." 

"  You  have  not.  There  is  such  a  room.  I  could 
not  have  dreamed  it." 

Silence  met  this  suggestion. 

Throwing  up  her  hands  like  one  who  realises  for 
the  first  time  that  the  battle  is  for  life,  she  let  an 
expression  of  her  despair  and  desolation  rush  in 
frenzy  from  her  lips: 

"  It's  a  conspiracy.  The  whole  thing  is  a  con- 
spiracy. If  my  mother  had  had  money  on  her  or 
had  worn  valuable  jewelry,  I  should  believe  her  to 
have  been  a  victim  of  this  lying  man  and  woman. 
As  it  is,  I  don't  trust  them.  They  say  that  my  poor 
mother  was  found  lying  ready  dressed  and  quite 
dead  in  the  wood.  That  may  be  true,  for  I  saw 


ROOM  NUMBER  3  21 

men  bringing  her  in.  But  if  so,  what  warrant  have 
we  that  she  was  not  lured  there,  slaughtered,  and 
made  to  seem  the  victim  of  accident  by  this  un- 
scrupulous man  and  woman?  Such  things  have 
been  done;  but  for  a  daughter  to  fabricate  such  a 
plot  as  they  impute  to  me  is  past  belief,  out  of 
Nature  and  impossible.  With  all  their  wiles,  they 
cannot  prove  it.  I  dare  them  to  do  so;  I  dare 
any  one  to  do  so." 

Then  she  begged  to  be  allowed  to  search  the 
house  for  the  room  she  so  well  remembered. 
"  When  I  show  you  that,"  she  cried,  with  ringing 
assurance,  "  you  will  believe  the  rest  of  my  story." 

"  Shall  I  take  the  young  lady  up  myself?  "  asked 
Mr.  Quimby.  "  Or  will  it  be  enough  if  my  wife 
accompanies  her?  " 

"  We  will  all  accompany  her,"  said  the  coroner. 

"  Very  good,"  came  in  hearty  acquiescence. 

"  It's  the  only  way  to  quiet  her,"  he  whispered 
in  Mr.  Hammersmith's  ear. 

The  latter  turned  on  him  suddenly. 

"  None  of  your  insinuations,"  he  cried.  "  She's 
as  far  from  insane  as  I  am  myself.  We  shall  find 
the  room." 

"  You,  too,"  fell  softly  from  the  other's  lips  as 
he  stepped  back  into  the  coroner's  wake.  Mr. 
Hammersmith  gave  his  arm  to  Miss  Demarest, 
and  the  landlady  brought  up  the  rear. 

"  Upstairs,"  ordered  the  trembling  girl.  "  We 
will  go  first  to  the  room  I  occupied." 

As  they  reached  the  door,   she  motioned  them 


22  ROOM  NUMBER  3 

all  back,  and  started  away  from  them  down  the 
hall.  Quickly  they  followed.  "  It  was  around  a 
corner,"  she  muttered  broodingly,  halting  at  the 
first  turning.  "  That  is  all  I  remember.  But  we'll 
visit  every  room." 

"  We  have  already,"  objected  the  coroner,  but 
meeting  Mr.  Hammersmith's  warning  look,  he  de- 
sisted from  further  interference. 

"  I  remember  its  appearance  perfectly.  I  re- 
member it  as  if  it  were  my  own,"  she  persisted,  as 
door  after  door  was  thrown  back  and  as  quickly 
shut  again  at  a  shake  of  her  head.  "  Isn't  there 
another  hall?  Might  I  not  have  turned  some  other 
corner?  " 

"  Yes,  there  is  another  hall,"  acquiesced  the  land- 
lord, leading  the  way  into  the  passage  communciat- 
ing  with  the  extension. 

"Oh!"  she  murmured,  as  she  noted  the  in- 
creased interest  in  both  the  coroner  and  his  com- 
panion; "we  shall  find  it  here." 

"Do  you  recognise  the  hall?"  asked  the  cor- 
oner as  they  stepped  through  a  narrow  opening 
into  the  old  part. 

"  No,  but  I  shall  recognise  the  room." 

"Wait!  "  It  was  Hammersmith  who  called  her 
back  as  she  was  starting  forward.  "  I  should  like 
you  to  repeat  just  how  much  furniture  this  room 
contained  and  where  it  stood." 

She  stopped,  startled,  and  then  said: 

"  It  was  awfully  bare;  a  bed  was  on  the  left " 

"On  the  left?" 


ROOM  NUMBER  3  23 

"  She  said  the  left,"  quoth  the  landlord,  u  though 
I  don't  see  that  it  matters ;  it's  all  fancy  with 
her." 

"  Go  on,"  kindly  urged  Hammersmith. 

"  There  was  a  window.  I  saw  the  dismal  panes 
and  my  mother  standing  between  them  and  me.  I 
can't  describe  the  little  things." 

"  Possibly  because  there  were  none  to  describe," 
whispered  Hammersmith  in  his  superior's  ear. 

Meanwhile  the  landlord  and  his  wife  awaited 
their  advance  with  studied  patience.  As  Miss  Dem- 
arest  joined  him,  he  handed  her  a  bunch  of  keys, 
with  the  remark: 

"  None  of  these  rooms  are  occupied  to-day,  so 
you  can  open  them  without  hesitation." 

She  stared  at  him  and  ran  quickly  forward. 
Mr.  Hammersmith  followed  speedily  after.  Sud- 
denly both  paused.  She  had  lost  the  thread  of  her 
intention  before  opening  a  single  door. 

"  I  thought  I  could  go  straight  to  it,"  she  de- 
clared. "  I  shall  have  to  open  all  the  doors,  as  we 
did  in  the  other  hall." 

"  Let  me  help  you,"  proffered  Mr.  Hammer- 
smith. She  accepted  his  aid,  and  the  search  re- 
commenced with  the  same  results  as  before.  Hope 
sank  to  disappointment  as  each  door  was  passed. 
The  vigour  of  her  step  was  gone,  and  as  she  paused 
heartsick  before  the  last  and  only  remaining  door, 
it  was  with  an  ashy  face  she  watched  Mr.  Hammer- 
smith stoop  to  insert  the  key. 

He,  on  his  part,  as  the  door  fell  back,  watched 


24  ROOM  NUMBER  3 

her  for  some  token  of  awakened  interest.  But  he 
watched  in  vain.  The  smallness  of  the  room,  its 
bareness,  its  one  window,  the  absence  of  all  furni- 
ture save  the  solitary  cot  drawn  up  on  the  right  (not 
on  the  left,  as  she  had  said),  seemed  to  make  little 
or  no  impression  on  her. 

"The  last!  the  last!  and  I  have  not  found  it. 
Oh,  sir,"  she  moaned,  catching  at  Mr.  Hammer- 
smith's arm,  "  am  I  then  mad?  Was  it  a  dream? 
Or  is  this  a  dream?  I  feel  that  I  no  longer  know." 
Then,  as  the  landlady  officiously  stepped  up,  she 
clung  with  increased  frenzy  to  Mr.  Hammersmith, 
crying,  with  positive  wildness,  "  This  is  the  dream  ! 
The  room  I  remember  is  a  real  one  and  my  story 
is  real.  Prove  it,  or  my  reason  will  leave  me.  I 
feel  it  going — going " 

"Hush!"  It  was  Hammersmith  who  sought 
thus  to  calm  her.  "  Your  story  is  real  and  I  will 
prove  it  so.  Meanwhile  trust  your  reason.  It  will 
not  fail  you." 

He  had  observed  the  corners  of  the  landlord's 
hitherto  restrained  lips  settle  into  a  slightly  sar- 
castic curl  as  the  door  of  this  room  closed  for  the 
second  time. 

II 

"  The  girl's  beauty  has  imposed  on  you." 

"  I  don't  think  so.     I  should  be  sorry  to  think 

myself  so  weak.     I  simply  credit  her  story  more 

than  I  do  that  of  Quimby." 


ROOM  NUMBER  3  25 

"  But  his  is  supported  by  several  witnesses.  Hers 
has  no  support  at  all." 

"  That  is  what  strikes  me  as  so  significant.  This 
man  Quimby  understands  himself.  Who  are  his 
witnesses?  His  wife  and  his  head  man.  There  is 
nobody  else.  In  the  half-hour  which  has  just 
passed  I  have  searched  diligently  for  some  disin- 
terested testimony  supporting  his  assertion,  but  I 
have  found  none.  No  one  knows  anything.  Of 
the  three  persons  occupying  rooms  in  the  extension 
last  night,  two  were  asleep  and  the  third  overcome 
with  drink.  The  maids  won't  talk.  They  seem 
uneasy,  and  I  detected  a  sly  look  pass  from  the 
one  to  the  other  at  some  question  I  asked,  but  they 
won't  talk.  There's  a  conspiracy  somewhere.  I'm 
as  sure  of  it  as  that  I  am  standing  here." 

"  Nonsense !  What  should  there  be  a  conspiracy 
about?  You  would  make  this  old  woman  an  im- 
portant character.  Now  WQ  know  that  she  wasn't. 
Look  at  the  matter  as  it  presents  itself  to  an  un- 
prejudiced mind.  A  young  and  susceptible  girl 
falls  in  love  with  a  man,  who  is  at  once  a  gentle- 
man and  a  scamp.  She  may  have  tried  to  resist 
her  feelings,  and  she  may  not  have.  Your  judg- 
ment and  mine  would  probably  differ  on  this  point. 
What  she  does  not  do  is  to  let  her  mother  into 
her  confidence.  She  sees  the  man — runs  upon  him, 
if  you  will,  in  places  or  under  circumstances  she 
cannot  avoid — till  her  judgment  leaves  her  and  the 
point  of  catastrophe  is  reached.  Then,  possibly, 
she  awakens,  or  what  is  more  probable,  seeks  to 


26  ROOM  NUMBER  3 

protect  herself  from  the  penetration  and  opposition 
of  his  friends  by  meetings  less  open  than  those  in 
which  they  had  lately  indulged.  She  says  that  she 
left  the  house  to  escape  seeing  him  again  last  night. 
But  this  is  not  true.  On  the  contrary,  she  must 
have  given  him  to  understand  where  she  was  going, 
for  she  had  an  interview  with  him  in  the  woods 
before  she  came  upon  her  mother.  He  acknowl- 
edges to  the  interview.  I  have  just  had  a  talk  with 
him  over  the  telephone." 

"  Then  you  know  his  name?  " 

"  Yes,  of  course,  she  had  to  tell  me.  It's  young 
Maxwell.  I  suspected  it  from  the  first." 

"  Maxwell ! "  Mr.  Hammersmith's  cheek  showed 
an  indignant  colour.  Or  was  it  a  reflection  from 
the  setting  sun?  "You  called  him  a  scamp  a  few 
minutes  ago.  A  scamp's  word  isn't  worth  much." 

"  No,  but  it's  evidence  when  on  oath,  and  I 
fancy  he  will  swear  te  the  interview." 

"  Well,  well,  say  there  was  an  interview." 

"  It  changes  things,  Mr.  Hammersmith.  It 
changes  things.  It  makes  possible  a  certain  theory 
of  mine  which  accounts  for  all  the  facts." 

"  It  does!" 

11  Yes.  I  don't  think  this  girl  is  really  responsi- 
ble. I  don't  believe  she  struck  her  mother  or  is 
deliberately  telling  a  tissue  of  lies  to  cover  up  some 
dreadful  crime.  I  consider  her  the  victim  of  a 
mental  hallucination,  the  result  of  some  great  shock. 
Now  what  was  the  shock?  I'll  tell  you.  This  is 
how  I  see  it,  how  Mr.  Quimby  sees  it,  and  such 


ROOM  NUMBER  3  27 

others  in  the  house  as  have  ventured  an  opinion. 
She  was  having  this  conversation  with  her  lover  in 
the  woods  below  here  when  her  mother  came  in 
sight.  Surprised,  for  she  had  evidently  not  ex- 
pected her  mother  to  be  so  prompt,  she  hustled  her 
lover  off  and  hastened  to  meet  the  approaching 
figure.  But  it  was  too  late.  The  mother  had  seen 
the  man,  and  in  the  excitement  of  the  discovery  and 
the  altercation  which  undoubtedly  followed,  made 
such  a  sudden  move,  possibly  of  indignant  depart- 
ure, that  her  foot  was  caught  by  one  of  the  roots 
protruding  at  this  point  and  she  fell  her  whole 
length  and  with  such  violence  as  to  cause  imme- 
diate death.  Now,  Mr.  Hammersmith,  stop  a  min- 
ute and  grasp  the  situation.  If,  as  I  believe  at  this 
point  in  the  inquiry,  Miss  Demarest  had  encoun- 
tered a  passionate  opposition  to  her  desires  from 
this  upright  and  thoughtful  mother,  the  spectacle 
of  this  mother  lying  dead  before  her,  with  all  op- 
position gone  and  the  way  cleared  in  an  instant  to 
her  wishes,  but  cleared  in  a  manner  which  must 
haunt  her  to  her  own  dying  day,  was  enough  to 
turn  a  brain  already  heated  with  contending  emo- 
tions. Fancies  took  the  place  of  facts,  and  by  the 
time  she  reached  this  house  had  so  woven  them- 
selves into  a  concrete  form  that  no  word  she  now 
utters  can  be  relied  on.  This  is  how  I  see  it,  Mr. 
Hammersmith,  and  it  is  on  this  basis  I  shall  act." 

Hammersmith  made  an  effort  and,  nodding 
slightly,  said  in  a  restrained  tone : 

"  Perhaps  you  are  justified.     I  have  no  wish  to 


28  ROOM  NUMBER  3 

force  my  own  ideas  upon  you;  they  are  much  too 
vague  at  present.  I  will  only  suggest  that  this  is 
not  the  first  time  the  attention  of  the  police  has 
been  drawn  to  this  house  by  some  mysterious  occur- 
rence. You  remember  the  Stevens  case?  There  must 
have  been  notes  to  the  amount  of  seven  thousand 
dollars  in  the  pile  he  declared  had  been  taken  from 
him  some  time  during  the  day  and  night  he  lodged 
here." 

"  Stevens!  I  remember  something  about  it.  But 
they  couldn't  locate  the  theft  here.  The  fellow 
had  been  to  the  fair  in  Chester  all  day  and  couldn't 
swear  that  he  had  seen  his  notes  after  leaving  the 
grounds." 

"  I  know.  But  he  always  looked  on  Quimby  as 
the  man.  Then  there  is  the  adventure  of  little  Miss 
Thistlewaite." 

"  I  don't  remember  that." 

"  It  didn't  get  into  the  papers;  but  it  was  talked 
about  in  the  neighbourhood.  She  is  a  quaint  one, 
full  of  her  crotchets,  but  clear — clear  as  a  bell 
where  her  interests  are  involved.  She  took  a  no- 
tion to  spend  a  summer  here — in  this  house,  I  mean. 
She  had  a  room  in  one  of  the  corners  overlooking 
the  woods,  and  professing  to  prefer  Nature  to 
everything  else,  was  happy  enough  till  she  began 
to  miss  things — rings,  pins,  a  bracelet  and,  finally, 
a  really  valuable  chain.  She  didn't  complain  at 
first — the  objects  were  trivial,  and  she  herself  some- 
what to  blame  for  leaving  them  lying  around  in  her 
room,  often  without  locking  the  door.  But  when 


ROOM  NUMBER  3  29 

the  chain  went,  the  matter  became  serious,  and  she 
called  Mr.  Quimby's  attention  to  her  losses.  He 
advised  her  to  lock  her  door,  which  she  was  careful 
to  do  after  that,  but  not  with  the  expected  result. 
She  continued  to  miss  things,  mostly  jewelry  of 
which  she  had  a  ridiculous  store.  Various  domes- 
tics were  dismissed,  and  finally  one  of  the  perma- 
nent boarders  was  requested  to  leave,  but  still  the 
thefts  went  on  till,  her  patience  being  exhausted, 
she  notified  the  police  and  a  detective  was  sent:  I 
have  always  wished  I  had  been  that  detective.  The 
case  ended  in  what  was  always  considered  a  joke. 
Another  object  disappeared  while  he  was  there,  and 
it  having  been  conclusively  proved  to  him  that  it 
could  not  have  been  taken  by  way  of  the  door,  he 
turned  his  attention  to  the  window  which  it  was 
one  of  her  freaks  always  to  keep  wide  open.  The 
result  was  curious.  One  day  he  spied  from  a 
hiding-place  he  had  made  in  the  bushes  a  bird  flying 
out  from  that  window,  and  following  the  creature 
till  she  alighted  in  her  nest  he  climbed  the  tree  and 
searched  that  nest.  It  was  encrusted  with  jewels. 
The  bird  was  a  magpie  and  had  followed  its  usual 
habits,  but — the  chain  was  not  there,  nor  one  or 
two  other  articles  of  decided  value.  Nor  were  they 
ever  found.  The  bird  bore  the  blame;  the  objects 
missing  were  all  heavy  and  might  have  been  dropped 
in  its  flight,  but  I  have  always  thought  that  the 
bird  had  an  accomplice,  a  knowing  fellow  who 
understood  what's  what  and  how  to  pick  out  his 
share." 


-jo  ROOM  NUMBER  3 

The  coroner  smiled.  There  was  little  conviction 
-and  much  sarcasm  in  that  smile.  Hammersmith 
turned  away.  "  Have  you  any  instructions  for 
me?  "  he  said. 

"Yes,  you  had  better  stay  here.  I  will  return 
in  the  morning  with  my  jury.  It  won't  take  long 
after  that  to  see  this  thing  through." 

The  look  he  received  in  reply  was  happily  hid- 
den from  him. 

Ill 

"  Yes,  I'm  going  to  stay  here  to-night.  As  it's 
a  mere  formality,  I  shall  want  a  room  to  sit  in, 
and  if  you  have  no  objection  I'll  take  Number  3 
on  the  rear  corridor." 

"  I'm  sorry,  but  Number  3  is  totally  unfit  for 
use,  as  you've  already  seen." 

"  Oh,  I'm  not  particular.  Put  a  table  in  and  a 
good  light,  and  I'll  get  along  with  the  rest.  I 
have  something  to  do.  Number  3  will  answer." 

The  landlord  shifted  his  feet,  cast  a  quick 
scrutinising  look  at  the  other's  composed  face, 
and  threw  back  his  head  with  a  quick  laugh. 

"  As  you  will.  I  can't  make  you  comfortable 
on  such  short  notice,  but  that's  your  lookout.  I've 
several  other  rooms  vacant." 

"  I  fancy  that  room,"  was  all  the  reply  he  got. 

Mr.  Quimby  at  once  gave  his  orders.  They 
were  received  by  Jake  with  surprise. 

Fifteen  minutes  later  Hammersmith  prepared  to 


ROOM  NUMBER  3  31 

install  himself  in  these  desolate  quarters.  But  be- 
fore doing  so  he  walked  straight  to  the  small  par- 
lour where  he  had  last  seen  Miss  Demarest  and, 
knocking,  asked  for  the  privilege  of  a  word  with 
her.  It  was  not  her  figure,  however,  which  ap- 
peared in  the  doorway,  but  that  of  the  land- 
lady. 

"  Miss  Demarest  is  not  here,"  announced  that 
buxom  and  smooth-tongued  woman.  "  She  was  like 
to  faint  after  you  gentlemen  left  the  room,  and  I 
just  took  her  upstairs  to  a  quiet  place  by  herself." 

"On  the  rear  corridor?" 

"  Oh,  no,  sir;  a  nice  front  room;  we  don't  con* 
sider  money  in  a  case  like  this." 

"  Will  you  give  me  its  number?  " 

Her  suave  and  steady  look  changed  to  one  of 
indignation. 

"You're  asking  a  good  deal,  aren't  you?  I 
doubt  if  the  young  lady " 

"  The  number,  if  you  please,"  he  quietly  put  in. 

"  Thirty-two,"  she  snapped  out.  "  She  will 
have  every  care,"  she  hastened  to  assure  him  as  he 
turned  away. 

"  I've  no  doubt.  I  do  not  intend  to  sleep  to- 
to-night;  if  the  young  lady  is  worse,  you  will  com- 
municate the  fact  to  me.  You  will  find  me  in 
Number  3." 

He  had  turned  back  to  make  this  reply,  and 
was  looking  straight  at  her  as  the  number  dropped 
from  his  lips.  It  did  not  disturb  her  set  smile,  but 
in  some  inscrutable  way  all  meaning  seemed  to  leave 


32  _  ROOM  NUMBER  3 

that  smile,  and  she  forgot  to  drop  her  hand  which 
had  been  stretched  out  in  an  attempted  gesture. 

"  Number  3,"  he  repeated.  "  Don't  forget, 
madam." 

The  injunction  seemed  superfluous.  She  had  not 
dropped  her  hand  when  he  wheeled  around  once 
more  in  taking  the  turn  at  the  foot  of  the  stair- 
case. 

Jake  and  a  very  sleepy  maid  were  on  the  floor 
above  when  he  reached  it.  He  paid  no  attention 
to  Jake,  but  he  eyed  the  girl  somewhat  curiously. 
She  was  comparatively  a  new  domestic  in  the  tav- 
ern, having  been  an  inmate  there  for  only  three 
weeks.  He  had  held  a  few  minutes'  conversation 
with  her  during  the  half-hour  of  secret  inquiry  in 
which  he  had  previously  indulged  and  he  remem- 
bered some  of  her  careful  answers,  also  the  air  of 
fascination  with  which  she  had  watched  him  all  the 
time  they  were  together.  He  had  made  nothing  of 
her  then,  but  the  impression  had  remained  that  she 
was  the  one  hopeful  source  of  knowledge  in  the 
house.  Now  she  looked  dull  and  moved  about  in 
Jake's  wake  like  an  automaton.  Yet  Hammer- 
smith made  up  his  mind  to  speak  to  her  as  soon  as 
the  least  opportunity  offered. 

"Where  is  32?"  he  asked  as  he  moved  away 
from  them  in  the  opposite  direction  from  the 
course  they  were  taking. 

"  I  thought  you  were  to  have  room  Number  3," 
blurted  out  Jake. 

"  I  am.     But  where  is  32?  " 


ROOM  NUMBER  3  33 

"  Round  there,"  said  she.  "  A  lady's  in  there 
now.  The  one " 

"Come  on,"  urged  Jake.  "  Huldah,  you  may  go 
now.  I'll  show  the  gentleman  his  room." 

Huldah  dropped  her  head,  and  began  to  move 
off,  but  not  before  Hammersmith  had  caught  her 
eye. 

"  Thirty-two,"  he  formed  with  his  lips,  showing 
her  a  scrap  of  paper  which  he  held  in  his  hand. 

He  thought  she  nodded,  but  he  could  not  be 
sure.  Nevertheless,  he  ventured  to  lay  the  scrap 
down  on  a  small  table  he  was  passing,  and  when 
he  again  looked  back,  saw  that  it  was  gone  and 
Huldah  with  it.  But  whither,  he  could  not  be 
quite  sure.  There  was  always  a  risk  in  these  at- 
tempts, and  he  only  half  trusted  the  girl.  She 
might  carry  it  to  32,  and  she  might  carry  it  to 
Quimby.  In  the  first  case,  Miss  Demarest  would 
know  that  she  had  an  active  and  watchful  friend 
in  the  house;  in  the  other,  the  dubious  landlord 
would  but  receive  an  open  instead  of  veiled  intima- 
tion that  the  young  deputy  had  his  eye  on  him 
and  was  not  to  be  fooled  by  appearances  and  the 
lack  of  evidence  to  support  his  honest  convictions. 

They  had  done  little  more  than  he  had  suggested 
to  make  Number  3  habitable.  As  the  door  swung 
open  under  Jake's  impatient  hand,  the  half-lighted 
hollow  of  the  almost  empty  room  gaped  unin- 
vitingly  before  them,  with  just  a  wooden-bottomed 
chair  and  a  rickety  table  added  to  the  small  cot- 
bed  which  had  been  almost  its  sole  furnishing  when 


34  ROOM  NUMBER  3 

he  saw  it  last.  The  walls,  bare  as  his  hand, 
stretched  without  relief  from  base-board  to  ceiling, 
and  the  floor  from  door  to  window  showed  an  un- 
broken expanse  of  unpainted  boards,  save  for  the 
narrow  space  between  chair  and  table,  where  a 
small  rug  had  been  laid.  A  cheerless  outlook  for 
a  tired  man,  but  it  seemed  to  please  Hammer- 
smith. There  was  paper  and  ink  on  the  table, 
and  the  lamp  which  he  took  care  to  examine  held 
oil  enough  to  last  till  morning.  With  a  tray  of 
eatables,  this  ought  to  suffice,  or  so  his  manner 
conveyed,  and  Jake,  who  had  already  supplied  the 
eatables,  was  backing  slowly  out  when  his  eye,  which 
seemingly  against  his  will  had  been  travelling  cu- 
riously up  and  down  the  walls,  was  caught  by  that 
of  Hammersmith,  and  he  plunged  from  the  room, 
with  a  flush  visible  even  in  that  half  light. 

It  was  a  trivial  circumstance,  but  it  fitted  in  with 
Hammersmith's  trend  of  thought  at  the  moment, 
and  when  the  man  was  gone  he  stood  for  several 
minutes  with  his  own  eye  travelling  up  and  down 
those  dusky  walls  in  an  inquiry  which  this  distant 
inspection  did  not  seem  thoroughly  to  satisfy,  for 
in  another  instant  he  had  lifted  a  glass  of  water 
from  the  tray  and,  going  to  the  nearest  wall,  began 
to  moisten  the  paper  at  one  of  the  edges.  When  it 
was  quite  wet,  he  took  out  his  penknife,  but  be- 
fore using  it,  he  looked  behind  him,  first  at  the 
door,  and  then  at  the  window.  The  door  was 
shut;  the  window  seemingly  guarded  by  an  outside 
blind;  but  the  former  was  not  locked,  and  the  latter 


ROOM  NUMBER  3  35 

showed,  upon  closer  inspection,  a  space  between 
the  slats  which  he  did  not  like.  Crossing  to  the 
door,  he  carefully  turned  the  key,  then  proceeding, 
to  the  window,  he  endeavoured  to  throw  up  the 
sash  in  order  to  close  the  blinds  more  effectually. 
But  he  found  himself  balked  in  the  attempt.  The 
cord  had  been  cut  and  the  sash  refused  to  move 
under  his  hand. 

Casting  a  glance  of  mingled  threat  and  sarcasm 
out  into  the  night,  he  walked  back  tq  the  wall  and, 
dashing  more  water  over  the  spot  he  had  already 
moistened,  began  to  pick  at  the  loosened  edges 
of  the  paper  which  were  slowly  falling  away.  The 
result  was  a  disappointment;  how  great  a  disap- 
pointment he  presently  realised,  as  his  knife-point 
encountered  only  plaster  under  the  peeling  edges 
of  the  paper.  He  had  hoped  to  find  other  paper 
under  the  blue — the  paper  which  Miss  Demarest 
remembered — and  not  finding  it,  was  conscious  of 
a  sinking  of  the  heart  which  had  never  attended 
any  of  his  miscalculations  before.  Were  his  own 
feelings  involved  in  this  matter?  It  would  certainly 
seem  so. 

Astonished  at  his  own  sensations,  he  crossed  back 
to  the  table,  and  sinking  into  the  chair  beside  it, 
endeavoured  to  call  up  his  common  sense,  or  at  least 
shake  himself  free  from  the  glamour  which  had 
seized  him.  But  this  especial  sort  of  glamour  is  not 
so  easily  shaken  off.  Minutes  passed — an  hour,  and 
little  else  filled  his  thoughts  than  the  position  of  this 
bewitching  girl  and  the  claims  she  had  on  his  sense  of 


36  ROOM  NUMBER  3 

justice.  If  he  listened,  it  was  to  hear  her  voice  raised 
in  appeal  at  his  door.  If  he  closed  his  eyes,  it  was  to 
see  her  image  more  plainly  on  the  background  of 
his  consciousness.  The  stillness  into  which  the 
house  had  sunk  aided  this  absorption  and  made 
his  battle  a  losing  one.  There  was  naught  to  dis- 
tract his  mind,  and  when  he  dozed,  as  he  did  for 
a  while  after  midnight,  it  was  to  fall  under  the 
conjuring  effect  of  dreams  in  which  her  form  domi- 
nated with  all  the  force  of  an  unfettered  fancy. 
The  pictures  which  his  imagination  thus  brought 
before  him  were  startling  and  never  to  be  forgot- 
ten. The  first  was  that  of  an  angry  sea  in  the  blue 
light  of  an  arctic  winter.  Stars  flecked  the  zenith 
and  shed  a  pale  lustre  on  the  moving  ice-floes  hur- 
rying toward  a  horizon  of  skurrying  clouds  and 
rising  waves.  On  one  of  those  floes  stood  a 
woman  alone,  with  face  set  toward  her  death. 

The  scene  changed.  A  desert  stretched  out  be- 
fore him.  Limitless,  with  the  blazing  colours 
of  the  arid  sand  topped  by  a  cloudless  sky,  it  re- 
vealed but  one  suggestion  of  life  in  its  herbless, 
waterless,  shadowless  solitude.  She  stood  in  the 
midst  of  this  desert,  and  as  he  had  seen  her  sway 
on  the  ice-floe,  so  he  saw  her  now  stretching  un- 
availing arms  to  the  brazen  heavens  and  sink — 
No !  it  was  not  a  desert,  it  was  not  a  sea,  ice-bound 
or  torrid,  it  was  a  toppling  city,  massed  against 
impenetrable  night  one  moment,  then  shown  to  its 
awful  full  the  next  by  the  sudden  tearing  through 
of  lightning-flashes.  He  saw  it  all — houses, 


ROOM  NUMBER  3  37 

churches,  towers,  erect  and  with  steadfast  line,  a 
silhouette  of  quiet  rest  awaiting  dawn;  then  at  a 
flash,  the  doom,  the  quake,  the  breaking  down  of 
outline,  the  caving  in  of  walls,  followed  by  the  sick- 
ening collapse  in  which  life,  wealth,  and  innumer- 
able beating  human  hearts  went  down  into  the  un- 
seen and  unknowable.  He  saw  and  he  heard,  but 
his  eyes  clung  to  but  one  point,  his  ears  listened  for 
but  one  cry.  There  at  the  extremity  of  a  cornice, 
clinging  to  a  bending  beam,  was  the  figure  again — 
the  woman  of  the  ice-floe  and  the  desert.  She 
seemed  nearer  now.  He  could  see  the  straining 
muscles  of  her  arm,  the  white  despair  of  her  set 
features.  He  wished  to  call  aloud  to  her  not  to 
look  down — then,  as '  the  sudden  darkness  yielded 
to  another  illuminating  gleam,  his  mind  changed 
and  he  would  fain  have  begged  her  to  look,  slip, 
and  end  all,  for  subtly,  quietly,  ominously  some- 
where below  her  feet,  he  had  caught  the  glimpsing 
of  a  feathery  line  of  smoke  curling  up  from  the 
lower  debris.  Flame  was  there;  a  creeping  devil 

which  soon 

Horror !  it  was  no  dream !  He  was  awake,  he, 
Hammersmith,  in  this  small  solitary  hotel  in  Ohio, 
and  there  was  fire,  real  fire  in  the  air,  and  in  his 
ears  the  echo  of  a  shriek  such  as  a  man  hears  but 
few  times  in  his  life,  even  if  his  lot  casts  him  con- 
tinually among  the  reckless  and  the  suffering.  Was 
it  hers?  Had  these  dreams  been  forerunners  of 
some  menacing  danger?  He  was  on  his  feet,  his 
eyes  staring  at  the  floor  beneath  him,  through  the 


38  ROOM  NUMBER  3 

cracks  of  which  wisps  of  smoke  were  forcing  their 
way  up.  The  tavern  was  not  only  on  fire,  but  on  fire 
directly  under  him.  This  discovery  woke  him  ef- 
fectually. He  bounded  to  the  door;  it  would  not 
open.  He  wrenched  at  the  key;  but  it  would  not 
turn,  it  was  hampered  in  the  lock.  Drawing  back, 
he  threw  his  whole  weight  against  the  panels,  utter- 
ing loud  cries  for  help.  The  effort  was  useless.  No 
yielding  in  the  door,  no  rush  to  his  assistance  from 
without.  Aroused  now  to  his  danger — reading  the 
signs  of  the  broken  cord  and  hampered  lock  only 
too  well — he  desisted  from  his  vain  attempts  and 
turned  desperately  toward  the  window.  Though 
it  might  be  impossible  to  hold  up  the  sash  and 
crawl  under  it  at  the  same  time,  his  only  hope  of 
exit  lay  there,  as  well  as  his  only  means  of  sur- 
viving the  inroad  of  smoke  which  was  fast  becom- 
ing unendurable.  He  would  break  the  sash  and 
seek  escape  that  way.  They  had  doomed  him  to 
death,  but  he  could  climb  roofs  like  a  cat  and 
feared  nothing  when  once  relieved  from  this 
smoke.  Catching  up  the  chair,  he  advanced  toward 
the  window. 

But  before  reaching  it  he  paused.  It  was  not 
only  he  they  sought  to  destroy,  but  the  room. 
There  was  evidence  of  crime  in  the  room.  In  that 
moment  of  keenly  aroused  intelligence  he  felt  sure 
of  it.  What  was  to  be  done?  How  could  he  save 
the  room,  and,  by  these  means,  save  himself  and 
her?  A  single  glance  about  assured  him  that  he 
could  not  save  it.  The  boards  under  his  feet  were 


ROOM  NUMBER  3  39 

hot.  Glints  of  yellow  light  streaking  through  the 
shutters  showed  that  the  lower  storey  had  already 
burst  into  flame.  The  room  must  go  and  with  it 
every  clue  to  the  problem  which  was  agitating  him. 
Meanwhile,  his  eyeballs  were  smarting,  his  head 
growing  dizzy.  No  longer  sure  of  his  feet,  he  stag- 
gered over  to  the  wall  and  was  about  to  make  use  of 
its  support  in  his  effort  to  reach  the  window,  when 
his  eyes  fell  on  the  spot  from  which  he  had  peeled 
the  paper,  and  he  came  to  a  sudden  standstill.  A 
bit  of  pink  was  showing  under  one  edge  of  the 
blue. 

Dropping  the  chair  which  he  still  held,  he  fum- 
bled for  his  knife,  found  it,  made  a  dash  at  that 
wall,  and  for  a  few  frenzied  moments  worked  at 
the  plaster  till  he  had  hacked  off  a  piece  which  he 
thrust  into  his  pocket.  Then  seizing  the  chair  again, 
he  made  for  the  window  and  threw  it  with  all  his 
force  against  the  panes.  They  crashed  and  the  air 
came  rushing  in,  reviving  him  enough  for  the  second 
attempt.  This  not  only  smashed  the  pane,  but 
loosened  the  shutters,  and  in  one  instant  two  sights 
burst  upon  his  view — the  face  of  a  man  in  an  upper 
window  of  the  adjoining  barn  and  the  sudden  swoop- 
ing up  from  below  of  a  column  of  deadly  smoke 
which  seemed  to  cut  off  all  hope  of  his  saving  him- 
self by  the  means  he  had  calculated  on.  Yet  no 
other  way  offered.  It  would  be  folly  to  try  the  door 
again.  This  was  the  only  road,  threatening  as  it 
looked,  to  possible  safety  for  himself  and  her.  He 
would  take  it,  and  if  he  succumbed  in  the  effort,  it 


40  ROOM  NUMBER  3 

should  be  with  a  final  thought  of  her  who  was  fast 
becoming  an  integral  part  of  his  own  being. 

Meanwhile  he  had  mounted  to  the  sill  and  taken 
another  outward  look.  This  room,  as  I  have  al- 
ready intimated,  was  in  the  rear  of  an  extension 
running  back  from  the  centre  of  the  main  building. 
It  consisted  of  only  two  stories,  surmounted  by  a 
long,  slightly-peaked  roof.  As  the  ceilings  were 
low  in  this  portion  of  the  house,  the  gutter  of  this 
roof  was  very  near  the  top  of  the  window.  To 
reach  it  was  not  a  difficult  feat  for  one  of  his 
strength  and  agility,  and  if  only  the  smoke  would 
blow  aside — Ah,  it  is  doing  so!  A  sudden  change 
of  wind  had  come  to  his  rescue,  and  for  the  mo- 
ment the  way  is  clear  for  him  to  work  himself  out 
and  up  on  to  the  ledge  above.  But  once  there, 
horror  makes  him  weak  again.  A  window,  high 
up  in  the  main  building  overlooking  the  extension, 
had  come  in  sight,  and  in  it  sways  a  frantic  woman 
ready  to  throw  herself  out.  She  screamed  as  he 
measured  with  his  eye  the  height  of  that  window 
from  the  sloping  roof  and  thence  to  the  ground, 
and  he  recognised  the  voice.  It  was  the  same  he 
had  heard  before,  but  it  was  not  hers.  She  would 
not  be  up  so  high,  besides  the  shape  and  attitude, 
shown  fitfully  by  the  light  of  the  now  leaping 
flames,  were  those  of  a  heavier,  and  less-refined 
woman.  It  was  one  of  the  maids — it  was  the  maid 
Huldah,  the  one  from  whom  he  had  hoped  to  win 
some  light  on  this  affair.  Was  she  locked  in,  too? 
Her  frenzy  and  mad  looking  behind  and  below 


ROOM  NUMBER  3  41 

her  seemed  to  argue  that  she  was.  What  deviltry ! 
and,  ah!  what  a  confession  of  guilt  on  the  part  of 
the  vile  man  who  had  planned  this  abominable  end 
for  the  two  persons  whose  evidence  he  dreaded. 
Helpless  with  horror,  he  became  a  man  again  in 
his  indignation.  Such  villainy  should  not  succeed. 
He  would  fight  not  only  for  his  own  life,  but  for 
this  woman's.  Miss  Demarest  was  doubtless  safe. 
Yet  he  wished  he  were  sure  of  it;  he  could  work 
with  so  much  better  heart.  Her  window  was  not 
visible  from  where  he  crouched.  It  was  on  the 
other  side  of  the  house.  If  she  screamed,  he  would 
not  be  able  to  hear  her.  He  must  trust  her  to 
Providence.  But  his  dream!  his  dream!  The 
power  of  it  was  still  upon  him;  a  forerunner  of 
fate,  a  picture  possibly  of  her  doom.  The  hesita- 
tion which  this  awful  thought  caused  him  warned 
him  that  not  in  this  way  could  he  make  himself 
effective.  The  woman  he  saw  stood  in  need  of  his 
help,  and  to  her  he  must  make  his  way.  The 
bustle  which  now  took  place  in  the  yards  beneath, 
the  sudden  shouts  and  the  hurried  throwing  up  of 
windows  all  over  the  house  showed  that  the  alarm 
had  now  become  general.  Another  moment,  and 
the  appalling  cry — the  most  appalling  which  leaves 
human  lips — of  fire !  fire !  rang  from  end  to  end  of 
the  threatened  building.  It  was  followed  by  wom- 
en's shrieks  and  men's  curses  and  then — by  flames. 

"  She  will  hear,  she  will  wake  now,"  he  thought, 
with  his  whole  heart  pulling  him  her  way.  But 
he  did  not  desist  from  his  intention  to  drop  his 


42  ROOM  NUMBER  3 

eyes  from  the  distraught  figure  entrapped  between 
a  locked  door  and  a  fall  of  thirty  feet.  He  could 
reach  her  if  he  kept  his  nerve.  A  slow  but  steady 
hitch  along  the  gutter  was  bringing  him  nearer 
every  instant.  Would  she  see  him  and  take  cour- 
age? No!  her  eyes  were  on  the  flames  which  were 
so  bright  now  that  he  could  actually  see  them 
glassed  in  her  eyeballs.  Would  a  shout  attract 
her?  The  air  was  full  of  cries  as  the  yards  filled 
with  escaping  figures,  but  he  would  attempt  it  at 
the  first  lull — now — while  her  head  was  turned  his 
way.  Did  she  hear  him?  Yes.  She  is  looking 
at  him. 

"  Don't  jump,"  he  cried.  "  Tie  your  sheet  to  the 
bed-post.  Tie  it  strong  and  fasten  the  other  one  to  it 
and  throw  down  the  end.  I  will  be  here  to  catch 
it.  Then  you  must  come  down  hand  over  hand." 

She  threw  up  her  arms,  staring  down  at  him  in 
mortal  terror;  then,  as  the  whole  air  grew  lurid, 
nodded  and  tottered  back.  With  incredible  anxiety 
he  watched  for  her  reappearance.  His  post  was 
becoming  perilous.  The  fire  had  not  yet  reached 
the  roof,  but  it  was  rapidly  undermining  its  sup- 
ports, and  the  heat  was  unendurable.  Would  he 
have  to  jump  to  the  ground  in  his  own  despite? 
Was  it  his  duty  to  wait  for  this  girl,  possibly  al- 
ready overcome  by  her  fears  and  lying  insensible? 
Yes;  so  long  as  he  could  hold  out  against  the  heat, 
it  was  his  duty,  but — Ah!  what  was  that?  Some 
one  was  shouting  to  him.  He  had  been  seen  at 
last,  and  men,  half-clad  but  eager,  were  rushing  up 


ROOM  NUMBER  3  43 

the  yard  with  a  ladder.  He  could  see  their  faces. 
How  they  glared  in  the  red  light.  Help  and  deter- 
mination were  there,  and  perhaps  when  she  saw  the 
promise  of  this  support,  it  would  give  nerve  to  her 
fingers  and 

But  it  was  not  to  be.  As  he  watched  their  eager 
approach,  he  saw  them  stop,  look  back,  swerve  and 
rush  around  the  corner  of  the  house.  Some  one  had 
directed  them  elsewhere.  He  could  see  the  pointing 
hand,  the  baleful  face.  Quimby  had  realised  his 
own  danger  in  this  prospect  of  Hammersmith's  es- 
cape, and  had  intervened  to  prevent  it.  It  was  a 
murderer's  natural  impulse,  and  did  not  surprise 
him,  but  it  added  another  element  of  danger  to  his 
position,  and  if  this  woman  delayed  much  longer — 
but  she  is  coming;  a  blanket  is  thrown  out,  then  a 
dangling  end  of  cloth  appears  above  the  sill.  It 
descends.  Another  moment  he  has  crawled  up  the 
roof  to  the  ridge  and  grasped  it. 

"  Slowly  now !  "  he  shouts.  "  Take  time  and  hold 
on  tight.  I  will  guide  you."  He  feels  the  frail 
support  stiffen.  She  has  drawn  it  into  her  hands; 
now  she  is  on  the  sill,  and  is  working  herself  off. 
He  clutched  his  end  firmly,  steadying  himself  as 
best  he  might  by  bestriding  the  ridge  of  the  roof. 
The  strain  becomes  greater,  he  feels  her  weight, 
she  is  slipping  down,  down.  Her  hands  strike  a 
knot;  the  jerk  almost  throws  him  off  his  balance. 
He  utters  a  word  of  caution,  lost  in  the  growing 
roar  of  the  flames  whose  hungry  tongues  have  be- 
gun to  leap  above  the  gutter.  She  looks  down,  sees 


44  ROOM  NUMBER  3 

the  approaching  peril,  and  hastens  her  descent.  He 
is  all  astrain,  with  heart  and  hand  nerved  for  the 
awful  possibilities  of  the  coming  moments  when — 
ping!  Something  goes  whistling  by  his  ear,  which 
for  the  instant  sets  his  hair  bristling  on  his  head,  and 
almost  paralyses  every  muscle.  A  bullet!  The 
flame  is  not  threatening  enough !  Some  one  is  shoot- 
ing at  him  from  the  dark. 


IV 

Well!  death  which  comes  one  way  cannot  come 
another,  and  a  bullet  is  more  merciful  than  flame. 
The  thought  steadies  Hammersmith;  besides  he  has 
nothing  to  do  with  what  is  taking  place  behind  his 
back.  His  duty  is  here,  to  guide  and  support  this 
rapidly-descending  figure  now  almost  within  his 
reach.  And  he  fulfils  this  duty,  though  that  deadly 
"  ping "  is  followed  by  another,  and  his  starting 
eyes  behold  the  hole  made  by  the  missile  in  the 
clap-board  just  before  him. 

She  is  down.  They  stand  toppling  together  on 
the  slippery  ridge  with  no  support  but  the  rapidly 
heating  wall  down  which  she  had  come.  He  looks 
one  way,  then  another.  Ten  feet  either  way  to  the 
gutter!  On  one  side  leap  the  flames;  beneath  the 
other  crouches  their  secret  enemy.  They  cannot 
meet  the  first  and  live ;  needs  must  they  face  the  lat- 
ter. Bullets  do  not  always  strike  the  mark,  as 
witness  the  two  they  had  escaped.  Besides,  there 


ROOM  NUMBER  3  45 

are  friends  as  well  as  enemies  in  the  yard  on  this 
side.  He  can  hear  their  encouraging  cries.  He  will 
toss  down  the  blanket;  perhaps  there  will  be  hands 
to  hold  it  and  so  break  her  fall,  if  not  his. 

With  a  courage  which  drew  strength  from  her 
weakness,  he  carried  out  this  plan  and  saw  her  land 
in  safety  amid  half  a  dozen  upstretched  arms.  Then 
he  prepared  to  follow  her,  but  felt  his  courage  fail 
and  his  strength  ooze  without  knowing  the  cause. 
Had  a  bullet  struck  him?  He  did  not  feel  it.  He 
was  conscious  of  the  heat,  but  of  no  other  suffer- 
ing; yet  his  limbs  lacked  life,  and  it  no  longer  seemed 
possible  for  him  to  twist  himself  about  so  as  to  fall 
easily  from  the  gutter. 

"  Come  on !  Come  on !  "  rose  in  yells  from  be- 
low, but  there  was  no  movement  in  him. 

"We  can't  wait.  The  wall  will  fall,"  rose  af- 
frightedly  from  below.  But  he  simply  clung  and 
the  doom  of  flame  and  collapsing  timbers  was  rush- 
ing mercilessly  upon  him  when,  in  the  glare  which 
lit  up  the  whole  dreadful  scenery,  there  rose  before 
his  fainting  eyes  the  sight  of  Miss  Demarest's  face 
turned  his  way  from  the  crowd  below,  with  all  the 
terror  of  a  woman's  bleeding  heart  behind  it.  The 
joy  which  this  recognition  brought  cleared  his  brain 
and  gave  him  strength  to  struggle  with  his  lethargy. 
Raising  himself  on  one  elbow,  he  slid  his  feet  over 
the  gutter,  and  with  a  frantic  catch  at  its  frail  sup- 
port, hung  for  one  instant  suspended,  then  dropped 
softly  into  the  blanket  which  a  dozen  eager  hands 
held  out  for  him. 


46  ROOM  NUMBER  3 

As  he  did  so,  a  single  gasping  cry  went  up  from 
the  hushed  throng.  He  knew  the  voice.  His  rescue 
had  relieved  one  heart.  His  own  beat  tumulruously 
and  the  blood  throbbed  in  his  veins  as  he  realised 
this. 

The  next  thing  he  remembered  was  standing  far 
from  the  collapsing  building,  with  a  dozen  men  and 
boys  grouped  about  him.  A  woman  at  his  feet  was 
clasping  his  knees  in  thankfulness,  another  sinking 
in  a  faint  at  the  edge  of  the  shadow,  but  he  saw 
neither,  for  the  blood  was  streaming  over  his  eyes 
from  a  wound  not  yet  accounted  for,  and  as  he  felt 
the  burning  flow,  he  realised  a  fresh  duty. 

"Where  is  Quimby?"  he  demanded  loudly.  "He 
made  this  hole  in  my  forehead.  He's  a  murderer 
and  a  thief,  and  I  order  you  all  in  the  name  of  the 
law  to  assist  me  in  arresting  him." 

With  the  confused  cry  of  many  voices,  the  circle 
widened.  Brushing  the  blood  from  his  brow,  he 
caught  at  the  nearest  man,  and  with  one  glance  to- 
ward the  tottering  building,  pointed  to  the  wall 
where  he  and  the  girl  Huldah  had  clung. 

"Look!"  he  shouted,  "do  you  see  that  black 
spot?  Wait  till  the  smoke  blows  aside.  There! 
now!  the  spot  just  below  the  dangling  sheet.  It's 
a  bullet-hole.  It  was  made  while  I  crouched  there. 
Quimby  held  the  gun.  He  had  his  reasons  for  hin- 
dering our  escape.  The  gir\  can  tell  you " 

"  Yes,  yes,"  rose  up  from  the  ground  at  his  feet. 
"  Quimby  is  a  wicked  man.  He  knew  that  I  knew 
it  and  he  locked  my  door  when  he  saw  the  flames 


ROOM  NUMBER  3  47 

coming.  I'm  willing  to  tell  now.  I  was  afraid  be- 
fore." 

They  stared  at  her  with  all  the  wonder  of  uncom- 
prehending minds  as  she  rose  with  a  resolute  air  to 
confront  them;  but  as  the  full  meaning  of  her  words 
penetrated  their  benumbed  brains,  slowly,  man  by 
man,  they  crept  away  to  peer  about  in  the  barns,  and 
among  the  clustering  shadows  for  the  man  who  had 
been  thus  denounced.  Hammersmith  followed  them, 
and  for  a  few  minutes  nothing  but  chase  was  in  any 
man's  mind.  That  part  of  the  building  in  which 
lay  hidden  the  room  of  shadows  shook,  tottered, 
and  fell,  loading  the  heavens  with  sparks  and  light- 
ing up  the  pursuit  now  become  as  wild  and  reckless 
as  the  scene  itself.  To  Miss  Demarest's  eyes,  just 
struggling  back  to  sight  and  hearing  from  the  nether- 
most depths  of  unconsciousness,  it  looked  like  the 
swirling  flight  of  spirits  lost  in  the  vortex  of  hell. 
For  one  wild  moment  she  thought  that  she  herself 
had  passed  the  gates  of  life  and  was  one  of  those 
unhappy  souls  whirling  over  a  gulf  of  flame.  The 
next  moment  she  realised  her  mistake.  A  kindly 
voice  was  in  her  ear,  a  kindly  hand  was  pressing  a 
half-burned  blanket  about  her. 

"  Don't  stare  so,"  the  voice  said.  "  It  is  only 
people  routing  out  Quimby.  They  say  he  set  fire 
to  the  tavern  himself,  to  hide  his  crime  and  do  away 
with  the  one  man  who  knew  about  it.  I  know  that 
he  locked  me  in  because  I — Oh,  see!  they've  got 
him!  they've  got  him!  and  with  a  gun  in  his 
hand!" 


48  ROOM  NUMBER  3 

The  friendly  hand  fell;  both  women  started  up- 
right panting  with  terror  and  excitement.  Then 
one  of  them  drew  back,  crying  in  a  tone  of  sudden 
anguish,  "  Why,  no !  It's  Jake,  Jake !  " 

Daybreak !  and  with  it  Doctor  Golden,  who  at  the 
first  alarm  had  ridden  out  post-haste  without  waiting 
to  collect  his  jury.  As  he  stepped  to  the  ground 
before  the  hollow  shell  and  smoking  pile  which  were 
all  that  remained  to  mark  the  scene  of  yesterday's 
events,  he  looked  about  among  the  half-clad,  shiver- 
ing men  and  women  peering  from  the  barns  and 
stables  where  they  had  taken  refuge,  till  his  eyes 
rested  on  Hammersmith  standing  like  a  sentinel 
before  one  of  the  doors. 

"  What's  this?  what's  this?  "  he  cried,  as  the  other 
quickly  approached.  "  Fire,  with  a  man  like  you  in 
the  house?  " 

"  Fire  because  I  was  in  the  house.  They  evi- 
dently felt  obliged  to  get  rid  of  me  somehow.  It's 
been  a  night  of  great  experiences  for  me.  When 
they  found  I  was  not  likely  to  perish  in  the  flames 
they  resorted  to  shooting.  I  believe  that  my  fore- 
head shows  where  one  bullet  passed.  Jake's  aim 
might  be  improved.  Not  that  I  am  anxious  for 
it." 

"Jake?  Do  you  mean  the  clerk?  Did  he  fire 
at  you?  " 

"  Yes,  while  I  was  on  the  roof  engaged  in  rescu- 
ing one  of  the  women." 

11  The    miserable    cur  I      You    arrested    him,    of 


ROOM  NUMBER  3  49 

course,  as  soon  as  you  could  lay  your  hands  on 
him?  " 

"  Yes.     He's  back  of  me  in  this  outhouse." 

"  And  Quimby?     What  about  Quimby?  " 

"  He's  missing." 

"And  Mrs.  Quimby?" 

"  Missing,  too.  They  are  the  only  persons  un- 
accounted for." 

"  Lost  in  the  fire?  " 

"  We  don't  think  so.  He  was  the  incendiary  and 
she,  undoubtedly,  his  accomplice.  They  would  cer- 
tainly look  out  for  themselves.  Doctor  Golden,  it 
was  not  for  insurance  money  they  fired  the  place; 
it  was  to  cover  up  a  crime." 

The  coroner,  more  or  less  prepared  for  this 
statement  by  what  Hammersmith  had  already  told 
him,  showed  but  little  additional  excitement  as  he 
dubiously  remarked: 

"  So  you  still  hold  to  that  idea." 

Hammersmith  glanced  about  him  and,  catching 
more  than  one  curious  eye  turned  their  way  from 
the  crowd  now  rapidly  collecting  in  all  directions, 
drew  the  coroner  aside  and  in  a  few  graphic  words 
related  the  night's  occurrences  and  the  conclusions 
these  had  forced  upon  him.  Doctor  Golden  list- 
ened and  seemed  impressed  at  last,  especially  by 
one  point. 

"  You  saw  Quimby,"  he  repeated;  "  saw  his  face 
distinctly  looking  toward  your  room  from  one  of 
the  stable  windows?" 

"  I  can  swear  to  it.    I  even  caught  his  expression. 


50  ROOM  NUMBER  3 

It  was  malignant  in  the  extreme,  quite  unlike  that 
he  usually  turns  upon  his  guests." 

"  Which  window  was  it?  " 

Hammersmith  pointed  it  out. 

"  You  have  been  there?  Searched  the  room  and 
the  stable?" 

,  "  Thoroughly,  just  as  soon  as  it  was  light  enough 
to  see." 

"And  found " 

"  Nothing;  not  even  a  clue." 

"  The  man  is  lying  dead  in  that  heap.  She,  toe, 
perhaps.  We'll  have  to  put  the  screws  on  Jake. 
A  conspiracy  like  this  must  be  unearthed.  Show 
me  the  rascal." 

"  He's  in  a  most  careless  mood.  He  doesn't 
think  his  master  and  mistress  perished  in  the  fire." 

"Careless,  eh?  Well,  we'll  see.  I  know  that 
sort." 

But  when  a  few  minutes  later  he  came  to  con- 
front the  clerk  he  saw  that  his  task  was  not  likely 
to  prove  quite  so  easy  as  his  former  experience 
had  led  him  to  expect.  Save  for  a  slight  nervous 
trembling  of  limb  and  shoulder — surely  not  un- 
natural after  such  a  night — Jake  bore  himself  with 
very  much  the  same  indifferent  ease  he  had  shown 
the  day  before. 

Doctor  Golden  surveyed  him  with  becoming 
sternness. 

"  At  what  time  did  this  fire  start?  "  he  asked. 

Jake  had  a  harsh  voice,  but  he  mellowed  it  won- 
derfully as  he  replied: 


ROOM  NUMBER  3  51 

"  Somewhere  about  one.  I  don't  carry  a  watch, 
so  I  don't  know  the  exact  time." 

"  The  exact  time  isn't  necessary.  Near  one  an- 
swers well  enough.  How  came  you  to  be  com- 
pletely dressed  at  near  one  in  a  country  tavern 
like  this?" 

"  I  was  on  watch.  There  was  death  in  the 
house." 

"  Then  you  were  in  the  house?  " 

"Yes."  His  tongue  faltered,  but  not  his  gaze; 
that  was  as  direct  as  ever.  "  I  was  in  the  house, 
but  not  at  the  moment  the  fire  started.  I  had 
gone  to  the  stable  to  get  a  newspaper.  My 
room  is  in  the  stable,  the  little  one  high  in  the 
cock-loft.  I  did  not  find  the  paper  at  once  and 
when  I  did  I  stopped  to  read  a  few  lines.  I'm 
a  slow  reader,  and  by  the  time  I  was  ready  to 
cross  back  to  the  house,  smoke  was  pouring  out 
of  the  rear  windows,  and  I  stopped  short,  horri- 
fied! I'm  mortally  afraid  of  fire." 

"  You  have  shown  it.  I  have  not  heard  that  you 
raised  the  least  alarm." 

"  I'm  afraid  you're  right.  I  lost  my  head  like  a 
fool.  You  see,  I've  never  lived  anywhere  else  for 
the  last  ten  years,  and  to  see  my  home  on  fire  was 
more  than  I  could  stand.  You  wouldn't  think  me 
so  weak  to  look  at  these  muscles." 

Baring  his  arm,  he  stared  down  at  it  with  a  for- 
lorn shake  of  his  head.  The  coroner  glanced  at 
Hammersmith.  What  sort  of  fellow  was  this!  A 


52  ROOM  NUMBER  3 

giant  with  the  air  of  a  child,  a  rascal  with  the  smile 
of  a  humourist.  Delicate  business,  this;  or  were 
they  both  deceived  and  the  man  just  a  good-hu- 
moured silly? 

Hammersmith  answered  the  appeal  by  a  nod  to- 
ward an  inner  door.  The  coroner  understood  and 
turned  back  to  Jake  with  the  seemingly  irrelevant 
inquiry : 

"  Where  did  you  leave  Mr.  Quimby  when  you 
went  to  the  cock-loft?  " 

"  In  the  house?  " 

"Asleep?" 

"  No,  he  was  making  up  his  accounts." 

"In  the  office?" 

"  Yes." 

"  And  that  was  where  you  left  him?  " 

"  Yes,  it  was." 

"  Then,  how  came  he  to  be  looking  out  of  your 
window  just  before  the  fire  broke  out?  " 

"  He?  "  Jake's  jaw  fell  and  his  enormous  shoul- 
ders drooped;  but  only  for  a  moment.  With  some- 
thing between  a  hitch  and  a  shrug,  he  drew  himself 
upright  and  with  some  slight  display  of  temper  cried 
out,  "  Who  says  he  was  there?  " 

The  coroner  answered  him.  "  The  man  behind 
you.  He  saw  him." 

Jake's  hand  closed  in  a  nervous  grip.  Had  the 
trigger  been  against  his  finger  at  that  moment  it 
would  doubtless  have  been  snapped  with  some  sat- 
isfaction, so  the  barrel  had  been  pointing  at  Ham- 
mersmith. 


ROOM  NUMBER  3  53 

"  Saw  him  distinctly,"  the  coroner  repeated. 
"  Mr.  Quimby's  face  is  not  to  be  mistaken." 

"  If  he  saw  him,"  retorted  Jake,  with  unexpected 
cunning,  "  then  the  flames  had  got  a  start.  One 
don't  see  in  the  dark.  They  hadn't  got  much  of  a 
start  when  I  left.  So  he  must  have  gone  up  to  my 
room  after  I  came  down." 

"  It  was  before  the  alarm  was  given;  before  Mr. 
Hammersmith  here  had  crawled  out  of  his  room 
window." 

"  I  can't  help  that,  sir.  It  was  after  I  left  the 
stable.  You  can't  mix  me  up  with  Quimby's  doings." 

"Can't  we?  Jake,  you're  no  lawyer  and  you 
don't  know  how  to  manage  a  lie.  Make  a  clean 
breast  of  it.  It  may  help  you  and  it  won't  hurt 
Quimby.  Begin  with  the  old  lady's  coming.  What 
turned  Quimby  against  her?  What's  the  plot?  " 

"  I  don't  know  of  any  plot.  What  Quimby  told 
you  is  true.  You  needn't  expect  me  to  contradict 
it  I" 

A  leaden  doggedness  had  taken  the  place  of  his 
whilom  good  nature.  Nothing  is  more  difficult  to 
contend  with.  Nothing  is  more  dreaded  by  the  in- 
quisitor. Hammersmith  realised  the  difficulties  of 
the  situation  and  repeated  the  gesture  he  had  pre- 
viously made  toward  the  door  leading  into  an  ad- 
joining compartment.  The  coroner  nodded  as  be- 
fore and  changed  the  tone  of  his  inquiry. 

"  Jake,"  he  declared,  "  you  are  in  a  more  serious 
position  than  you  realise.  You  may  be  devoted  to 
Quimby,  but  there  are  others  who  are  not.  A  night 


51  ROOM  NUMBER  3 

such  as  you  have  been  through  quickens  the  con- 
science of  women  if  it  does  not  that  of  men.  One 
has  been  near  death.  The  story  of  such  a  woman 
is  apt  to  be  truthful.  Do  you  want  to  hear  it?  I 
have  no  objections  to  your  doing  so." 

"What  story?  I  don't  know  of  any  story. 
Women  have  easy  tongues ;  they  talk  even  when  they 
have  nothing  to  say." 

"  This  woman  has  something  to  say,  or  why 
should  she  have  asked  to  be  confronted  with  you? 
Have  her  in,  Mr.  Hammersmith.  I  imagine  that 
a  sight  of  this  man  will  make  her  voluble." 

A  sneer  from  Jake;  but  when  Hammersmith, 
crossing  to  the  door  I've  just  mentioned,  opened  it 
and  let  in  Huldah,  this  token  of  bravado  gave  way 
to  a  very  different  expression  and  he  exclaimed  half 
ironically,  half  caressingly: 

"  Why,  she's  my  sweetheart !  What  can  she  have 
to  say  except  that  she  was  mighty  fortunate  not  to 
have  been  burned  up  in  the  fire  last  night?  " 

Doctor  Golden  and  the  detective  crossed  looks 
in  some  anxiety.  They  had  not  been  told  of  this 
relation  between  the  two,  either  by  the  girl  herself 
or  by  the  others.  Gifted  with  a  mighty  close  mouth, 
she  had  nevertheless  confided  to  Hammersmith  that 
she  could  tell  things  and  would,  if  he  brought  her 
face  to  face  with  the  man  who  tried  to  shoot  him 
while  he  was  helping  her  down  from  the  roof. 
Would  her  indignation  hold  out  under  the  insinuat- 
ing smile  with  which  the  artful  rascal  awaited  her 
words?  It  gave  every  evidence  of  doing  so,  for  her 


ROOM  NUMBER  3  55 

eye  flashed  threateningly  and  her  whole*body  showed 
the  tension  of  extreme  feeling  as  she  came  hastily 
forward,  and  pausing  just  beyond  the  reach  of  his 
arm,  cried  out: 

"  You  had  a  hand  in  locking  me  in.  You're  tired 
of  me.  If  you're  not,  why  did  you  fire  those  bullets 
my  way?  I  was  escaping  and ; 

Jake  thrust  in  a  quick  word.  "  That  was  Quim- 
by's  move — locking  your  door.  He  had  some  game 
up.  I  don't  know  what  it  was.  I  had  nothing  to 
do  with  it." 

This  denial  seemed  to  influence  her.  She  looked 
at  him  and  her  breast  heaved.  He  was  good  to 
look  at;  he  must  have  been  more  than  that  to  one 
of  her  restricted  experience.  Hammersmith  trem- 
bled for  the  success  of  their  venture.  Would  this 
blond  young  giant's  sturdy  figure  and  provoking 
smile  prevail  against  the  good  sense  which  must  tell 
her  that  he  was  criminal  to  the  core,  and  that  neither 
his  principle  nor  his  love  were  to  be  depended  on? 
No,  not  yet.  With  a  deepening  flush,  she  flashed 
out: 

"You  hadn't?  You  didn't  want  me  dead?  Why, 
then,  those  bullets?  You  might  have  killed  me  as 
well  as  Mr.  Hammersmith  when  you  fired!  " 

"Huldah!  "  Astonishment  and  reproach  in  the 
tone  and  something  more  than  either  in  the  look 
which  accompanied  it.  Both  were  very  artful  and 
betrayed  resources  not  to  be  expected  from  one  of 
his  ordinarily  careless  and  good-humoured  aspect. 
*'  You  haven't  heard  what  I've  said  about  that?  " 


56  ROOM  NUMBER  3 

"What  could  you  say?" 

"  Why,  the  truth,  Huldah.  I  saw  you  on  the 
roof.  The  fire  was  near.  I  thought  that  neither 
you  nor  the  man  helping  you  could  escape.  A  death 
of  that  kind  is  horrible.  I  loved  you  too  well  to  see 
you  suffer.  My  gun  was  behind  the  barn  door.  I 
got  it  and  fired  out  of  mercy." 

She  gasped.  So,  in  a  way,  did  the  two  officials. 
The  plea  was  so  specious,  and  its  likely  effect  upon 
her  so  evident. 

"  Jake,  can  I  believe  you?  "  she  murmured. 

For  answer,  he  fumbled  in  his  pocket  and  drew 
out  a  small  object  which  he  held  up  before  her  be- 
tween his  fat  forefinger  and  thumb.  It  was  a  ring, 
a  thin,  plain  hoop  of  gold  worth  possibly  a  couple 
of  dollars,  but  which  in  her  eyes  seemed  to  possess 
an  incalculable  value,  for  she  had  no  sooner  seen  it 
than  her  whole  face  flushed  and  a  look  of  positive 
delight  supplanted  the  passionately  aggrieved  one 
with  which  she  had  hitherto  faced  him. 

"  You  had  bought  that?  " 

He  smiled  and  returned  it  to  his  pocket. 

"  For  you,"  he  simply  said. 

The  joy  and  pride  with  which  she  regarded  him, 
despite  the  protesting  murmur  of  the  discomfited 
Hammersmith,  proved  that  the  wily  Jake  had  been 
too  much  for  them. 

"You  see!"  This  to  Hammersmith.  "Jake 
didn't  mean  any  harm,  only  kindness  to  us  both.  If 
you  will  let  him  go,  I'll  be  more  thankful  than  when 
you  helped  me  down  off  the  roof.  We're  wanting 


ROOM  NUMBER  3  57 

to  be  married.  Didn't  you  see  him  show  me  the 
ring?  " 

It  was  for  the  coroner  to  answer. 

"  We'll  let  him  go  when  we're  assured  that  he 
means  all  that  he  says.  I  haven't  as  good  an  opin- 
ion of  him  as  you  have.  I  think  he's  deceiving  you 
and  that  you  are  a  very  foolish  girl  to  trust  him. 
Men  don't  fire  on  the  women  they  love,  for  any 
reason.  You'd  better  tell  me  what  you  have  against 
him." 

"  I  haven't  anything  against  him  now." 

"  But  you  were  going  to  tell  us  something " 

"  I  guess  I  was  fooling." 

"  People  are  not  apt  to  fool  who  have  just  been 
in  terror  of  their  lives." 

Her  eyes  sought  the  ground.  "  I'm  just  a  hard- 
working girl,"  she  muttered  almost  sullenly. 
"  What  should  I  know  about  that  man  Quimby's 
dreadful  doings?  " 

"  Dreadful?  You  call  them  dreadful?  "  It  was 
Doctor  Golden  who  spoke. 

"  He  locked  me  in  my  room,"  she  violently  de- 
clared. "  That  wasn't  done  for  fun." 

"  And  is  that  all  you  can  tell  us?  Don't  look  at 
Jake.  Look  at  me." 

"  But  I  don't  know  what  to  say.  I  don't  even 
know  what  you  want." 

"  I'll  tell  you.  Your  work  in  the  house  has  been 
upstairs  work,  hasn't  it?  " 

"  Yes,  sir.  I  did  up  the  rooms — some  of  them," 
she  added  cautiously. 


58  ROOM  NUMBER  3 

"What  rooms?  Front  rooms,  rear  rooms,  or 
both?" 

"  Rooms  in  front;  those  on  the  third  floor." 

"But  you  sometimes  went  into  the  extension?" 

"  I've  been  down  the  hall." 

"  Haven't  you  been  in  any  of  the  rooms  there, — 
Number  3,  for  instance?" 

"  No,  sir;  my  work  didn't  take  me  there." 

"  But  you've  heard  of  the  room?  " 

"  Yes,  sir.  The  girls  sometimes  spoke  of  it.  It 
had  a  bad  name,  and  wasn't  often  used.  No  girl 
liked  to  go  there.  A  man  was  found  dead  in  it 
once.  They  said  he  killed  his  own  self." 

"  Have  you  ever  heard  any  one  describe  this 
room?  " 

"  No,  sir." 

"  Tell  what  paper  was  on  the  wall?  " 

"  No,  sir." 

"  Perhaps  Jake  here  can  help  us.  He's  been  in 
the  room  often." 

"The  paper  was  blue;  you  know  that;  you  saw 
it  yourselves  yesterday,"  blurted  forth  the  man  thus 
appealed  to. 

"  Always  blue?  Never  any  other  colour  that  you 
remember?  " 

"  No;  but  I've  been  in  the  house  only  ten  years." 

"  Oh,  is  that  all !  And  do  you  mean  to  say  that 
this  room  has  not  been  redecorated  in  ten  years?  " 

"  How  can  I  tell?  I  can't  remember  every  time 
a  room  is  repapered." 

"  You  ought  to  remember  this  one." 


ROOM  NUMBER  3  59 

"Why?" 

"  Because  of  a  very  curious  circumstance  con- 
nected with  it." 

"  I  don't  know  of  any  circumstance." 

"  You  heard  what  Miss  Demarest  had  to  say 
about  a  room  whose  walls  were  covered  with  muddy 
pink  scrolls." 

"  Oh,  she !  "  His  shrug  was  very  expressive. 
Huldah  continued  to  look  down. 

"  Miss  Demarest  seemed  to  know  what  she  was 
talking  about,"  pursued  the  coroner  in  direct  con- 
tradiction of  the  tone  he  had  taken  the  day  before. 
"  Her  description  was  quite  vivid.  It  would  be 
strange  now  if  those  walls  had  once  been  covered 
with  just  such  paper  as  she  described." 

An  ironic  stare,  followed  by  an  incredulous  smile 
from  Jake;  dead  silence  and  immobility  on  the  part 
of  Huldah. 

"  Was  it?  "  shot  from  Doctor  Golden's  lips  with 
all  the  vehemence  of  conscious  authority. 

There  was  an  instant's  pause,  during  which  Hul- 
dah's  breast  ceased  its  regular  rise  and  fall;  then  the 
clerk  laughed  sharply  and  cried  with  the  apparent 
lightness  of  a  happy-go-lucky  temperament: 

**  I  should  like  to  know  if  it  was.  I'd  think  it  a 

very  curious  quin — quin What's  the  word? 

quincedence,  or  something  like  that." 

"  The  deepest  fellow  I  know,"  grumbled  the  baf- 
fled coroner  into  Hammersmith's  ear,  as  the  latter 
stepped  his  way,  "  or  just  the  most  simple."  Then 
added  aloud:  "Lift  up  my  coat  there,  please." 


60  ROOM  NUMBER  3 

Hammersmith  did  so.  The  garment  mentioned 
lay  across  a  small  table  which  formed  the  sole  fur- 
nishing of  the  place,  and  when  Hammersmith  raised 
it,  there  appeared  lying  underneath  several  small 
pieces  of  plaster  which  Doctor  Golden  immediately 
pointed  out  to  Jake. 

u  Do  you  see  these  bits  from  a  papered  wall?" 
he  asked.  "  They  were  torn  from  that  of  Number 
3,  between  the  breaking  out  of  the  fire  and  Mr. 
Hammersmith's  escape  from  the  room.  Come 
closer;  you  may  look  at  them,  but  keep  your  fingers 
off.  You  see  that  the  coincidence  you  mentioned 
holds." 

Jake  laughed  again  loudly,  in  a  way  he  probably 
meant  to  express  derision;  then  he  stood  silent,  gaz- 
ing curiously  down  at  the  pieces  before  him.  The 
blue  paper  peeling  away  from  the  pink  made  it 
impossible  for  him  to  deny  that  just  such  paper 
as  Miss  Demarest  described  had  been  on  the  wall 
prior  to  the  one  they  had  all  seen  and  remem- 
bered.* 

"  Well,  I  vum !  "  Jake  finally  broke  out,  turning 
and  looking  from  one  face  to  another  with  a  very 
obvious  attempt  to  carry  off  the  matter  jovially. 
"  She  must  have  a  great  eye;  a — a — (another  hard 
word!  What  is  it  now?)  Well!  no  matter.  One 
of  the  kind  what  sees  through  the  outside  of  things 
to  what's  underneath.  I  always  thought  her  queer, 

*  Hammersmith's  first  attempt  to  settle  this  fact  must  have  failed 
from  his  having  chosen  a  spot  for  his  experiment  where  the  old 
paper  had  been  stripped  away  before  the  new  \vas  put  oa. 


ROOM  NUMBER  3  61 

but  not  so  queer  as  that.  I'd  like  to  have  that  sort 
of  power  myself.  Wouldn't  you,  Huldah?  " 

The  girl,  whose  eye,  as  Hammersmith  was  care- 
ful to  note,  had  hardly  dwelt  for  an  instant  on  these 
bits,  not  so  long  by  any  means  as  a  woman's  natural 
curiosity  would  seem  to  prompt,  started  as  atten- 
tion was  thus  drawn  to  herself  and  attempted  a  sickly 
smile. 

But  the  coroner  had  small  appreciation  for  this 
attempted  display  of  humour,  and  motioning  to 
Hammersmith  to  take  her  away,  he  subjected  the 
clerk  to  a  second  examination  which,  though  much 
more  searching  and  rigorous  than  the  first,  resulted 
in  the  single  discovery  that  for  all  his  specious  love- 
making  he  cared  no  more  for  the  girl  than  for  one 
of  his  old  hats.  This  the  coroner  confided  to  Ham- 
mersmith when  he  came  in  looking  disconsolate  at 
his  own  failure  to  elicit  anything  further  from  the 
resolute  Huldah. 

"  But  you  can't  make  her  believe  that  now,"  whis- 
pered Hammersmith. 

"  Then  we  must  trick  him  into  showing  her  his 
real  feelings." 

"  How  would  you  set  to  work?  He's  warned, 
she's  warned,  and  life  if  not  love  is  at  stake." 

"  It  don't  look  very  promising,"  muttered  Doctor 
Golden,  "  but " 

He  was  interrupted  by  a  sudden  sound  of  hub- 
bub without. 

"  It's  Quimby,  Quimby !  "  declared  Hammer- 
smith in  his  sudden  excitement. 


62  ROOM  NUMBER  3 

But  again  he  was  mistaken.  It  was  not  the  land- 
lord, but  his  wife,  wild-eyed,  dishevelled,  with  bits 
of  straw  in  her  hair  from  some  sheltering  hayrick 
and  in  her  hand  a  heavy  gold  chain  which,  as  the 
morning  sun  shone  across  it,  showed  sparkles  of 
liquid  clearness  at  short  intervals  along  its  whole 
length. 

Diamonds !  Miss  Thistlewaite's  diamonds,  and 
the  woman  who  held  them  was  gibbering  like  an 
idiot! 

The  effect  on  Jake  was  remarkable.  Uttering  a 
piteous  cry,  he  bounded  from  their  hands  and  fell 
at  the  woman's  feet. 

"Mother  Quimby!"  he  moaned.  "Mother 
Quimby !  "  and  sought  to  kiss  her  hand  and  wake 
some  intelligence  in  her  eye. 

Meanwhile  the  coroner  and  Hammersmith  looked 
on,  astonished  at  these  evidences  of  real  feeling. 
Then  their  eyes  stole  behind  them,  and  simulta- 
neously both  started  back  for  the  outhouse  they  had 
just  left.  Huldah  was  standing  in  the  doorway,  sur- 
veying the  group  before  her  with  trembling,  half- 
parted  lips. 

"  Jealous !  "  muttered  Hammersmith.  "  Provi- 
dence has  done  our  little  trick  for  us.  She  will  talk 
now.  Look!  She's  beckoning  to  us." 


ROOM  NUMBER  3  63 


"  Speak  quickly.  You'll  never  regret  it,  Huldah. 
He's  no  mate  for  you,  and  you  ought  to  know  it. 
You  have  seen  this  paper  covered  with  the  pink 
scrolls  before?" 

The  coroner  had  again  drawn  aside  his  coat  from 
the  bits  of  plaster. 

"  Yes,"  she  gasped,  with  quick  glances  at  her 
lover  through  the  open  doorway.  "  He  never  shed 
tears  for  me !  "  she  exclaimed  bitterly.  "  I  didn't 
know  he  could  for  anybody.  Oh,  I'll  tell  what  I've 
kept  quiet  here,"  and  she  struck  her  breast  violently. 
"  I  wouldn't  keep  the  truth  back  now  if  the  minister 
was  waiting  to  marry  us.  He  loves  that  old  woman 
and  he  doesn't  love  me.  Hear  him  call  her 
'mother.'  Are  mothers  dearer  than  sweethearts? 
Oh,  I'll  tell !  I  don't  know  anything  about  the  old 
lady,  but  I  do  know  that  room  3  was  repapered  the 
night  before  last,  and  secretly,  by  him.  I  didn't  see 
him  do  it,  nobody  did,  but  this  is  how  I  know :  Some 
weeks  ago  I  was  hunting  for  something  in  the  attic, 
when  I  stumbled  upon  some  rolls  of  old  wall-paper 
lying  in  a  little  cubby-hole  under  the  eaves.  The 
end  of  one  of  the  rolls  was  torn  and  lay  across  the 
floor.  I  couldn't  help  seeing  it  or  remembering  its 
colour.  It  was  like  this,  blue  and  striped.  Exactly  like 
it,"  she  repeated,  "  just  as  shabby  and  old-looking. 
The  rain  had  poured  in  on  it,  and  it  was  all  mouldy 
and  stained.  It  smelt  musty.  I  didn't  give  two 
thoughts  to  it  then,  but  when  after  the  old  lady's 


64  ROOM  NUMBER  3 

death  I  heard  one  of  the  girls  say  something  in  the 
kitchen  about  a  room  being  blue  now  which  only  a 
little  while  ago  was  pink,  I  stole  up  into  the  attic 
to  see  if  those  rolls  were  still  there  and  found 
them  every  one  gone.  Oh,  what  is  happening 
now?" 

"  One  of  the  men  is  trying  to  take  the  diamonds 
from  the  woman  and  she  won't  let  him.  Her  wits 
are  evidently  gone — frightened  away  by  the  horrors 
of  the  night — or  she  wouldn't  try  to  cling  to  what 
has  branded  her  at  once  as  a  thief." 

The  word  seemed  to  pierce  the  girl.  She  stared 
out  at  her  former  mistress,  who  was  again  being 
soothed  by  the  clerk,  and  murmured  hoarsely: 

"  A  thief !  and  he  don't  seem  to  mind,  but  is  just  as 
good  to  her!  Oh,  oh,  I  once  served  a  term  myself 
for — for  a  smaller  thing  than  that  and  I  thought  that 

was  why Oh,  sir,  oh,  sir,  there's  no  mistake 

about  the  paper.  For  I  went  looking  about  in  the 
barrels  and  where  they  throw  the  refuse,  for  bits  to 
prove  that  this  papering  had  been  done  in  the  night. 
It  seemed  so  wonderful  to  me  that  any  one,  even 
Jake,  who  is  the  smartest  man  you  ever  saw,  could 
do  such  a  job  as  that  and  no  one  know.  And  though 
I  found  nothing  in  the  barrels,  I  did  in  the  laundry 
stove.  It  was  full  of  burned  paper,  and  some  of  it 
showed  colour,  and  it  was  just  that  musty  old  blue 
I  had  seen  in  the  attic." 

She  paused  with  a  terrified  gasp;  Jake  was  look- 
ing at  her  from  the  open  door. 

"  Oh,  Jake !  "  she  wailed  out,  "  why  weren't  you 


ROOM  NUMBER  3  65 

true  to  me  ?  Why  did  you  pretend  to  love  me  when 
you  didn't?  " 

He  gave  her  a  look,  then  turned  on  his  heel.  He 
was  very  much  subdued  in  aspect  and  did  not  think 
to  brush  away  the  tear  still  glistening  on  his  cheek. 

"  I've  said  my  last  word  to  you,"  he  quietly  de- 
clared, then  stood  silent  a  moment,  with  slowly 
labouring  chest  and  an  air  of  deepest  gloom.  But, 
as  his  eye  stole  outside  again,  they  saw  the  spirit 
melt  within  him  and  simple  human  grief  take  the 
place  of  icy  resolution.  "  She  was  like  a  mother  to 
me,"  he  murmured.  "  And  now  they  say  she'll 
never  be  herself  again  as  long  as  she  lives."  Sud- 
denly his  head  rose  and  lie  faced  the  coroner. 

"  You're  right,"  said  he.  "  It's  all  up  with  me. 
No  home,  no  sweetheart,  no  missus.  She  [there  was 
no  doubt  as  to  whom  he  meant  by  that  tremulous 
she]  was  the  only  one  I've  ever  cared  for  and  she's 
just  shown  herself  a  thief.  I'm  no  better.  This 
is  our  story." 

I  will  not  give  it  in  his  words,  but  in  my  own.  It 
will  be  shorter  and  possibly  more  intelligible. 

The  gang,  if  you  may  call  it  so,  consisted  of 
Quimby  and  these  two,  with  a  servant  or  so  in  ad- 
dition. Robbery  was  its  aim;  a  discreet  and  none 
too  frequent  spoliation  of  such  of  their  patrons  as 
lent  themselves  to  their  schemes.  Quimby  was  the 
head,  his  wife  the  soul  of  this  business,  and  Jake 
their  devoted  tool.  The  undermining  of  the  latter's 
character  had  been  begun  early;  a  very  dangerous 
undermining,  because  it  had  for  one  of  its  elements 


66  ROOM  NUMBER  3 

good  humour  and  affectionate  suggestion.  At  four- 
teen he  was  ready  for  any  crime,  but  he  was  merci- 
fully kept  out  of  the  worst  till  he  was  a  full-grown 
man.  Then  he  did  his  part.  The  affair  of  the  old 
woman  was  an  unpremeditated  one.  It  happened 
in  this  wise:  Miss  Demarest's  story  had  been  true 
in  every  particular.  Her  mother  was  with  her  when 
she  came  to  the  house,  and  he,  Jake,  was  the  per- 
son sitting  far  back  in  the  shadows  at  the  time  the 
young  lady  registered.  There  was  nothing  peculiar 
in  the  occurrence  or  in  their  behaviour  except  the 
decided  demand  which  Miss  Demarest  made  for 
separate  rooms.  This  attracted  his  attention,  for 
the  house  was  pretty  full  and  only  one  room  was 
available  in  the  portion  reserved  for  transients. 
What  would  Quimby  do?  He  couldn't  send  two 
women  away,  and  he  was  entirely  too  conciliatory 
and  smooth  to  refuse  a  request  made  so  perempto- 
rily. Quimby  did  nothing.  He  hemmed,  hawed,  and 
looked  about  for  his  wife.  She  was  in  the  inner 
office  back  of  him,  and,  attracted  by  his  uneasy  move- 
ments, showed  herself.  A  whispered  consultation 
followed,  during  which  she  cast  a  glance  Jake's  way. 
He  understood  her  instantly  and  lounged  carelessly 
forward.  "  Let  them  have  Number  3,"  he  said. 
"  It's  all  fixed  for  the  night.  I  can  sleep  anywhere, 
on  the  settle  here  or  even  on  the  floor  of  the  inner 
office." 

He  had  whispered  these  words,  for  the  offer 
meant  more  than  appeared.  Number  3  was  never 
given  to  guests.  It  was  little  more  than  a  closet  and 


ROOM  NUMBER  3  67 

was  not  even  furnished.  A  cot  had  been  put  in 
that  very  afternoon,  but  only  to  meet  a  special  emer- 
gency. A  long-impending  conference  was  going  to 
be  held  between  him  and  his  employers  subsequent 
to  closing  up  time,  and  he  had  planned  this  im- 
promptu refuge  to  save  himself  a  late  walk  to  the 
stable.  At  his  offer  to  pass  the  same  over  to  the 
Demarests,  the  difficulty  of  the  moment  vanished. 
Miss  Demarest  was  shown  to  the  one  empty  room 
in  front,  and  the  mother — as  being  the  one  less 
likely  to  be  governed  by  superstitious  fears  if  it  so 
happened  that  some  rumour  of  the  undesirability 
of  the  haunted  Number  3  should  have  reached  them 
— to  the  small  closet  so  hastily  prepared  for  the 
clerk.  Mrs.  Quimby  accompanied  her,  and  after- 
ward visited  her  again  for  the  purpose  of  carrying 
her  a  bowl  and  some  water.  It  was  then  she  en- 
countered Miss  Demarest,  who,  anxious  for  a  second 
and  more  affectionate  good-night  from  her  mother, 
had  been  wandering  the  halls  in  a  search  for  her 
room.  There  was  nothing  to  note  in  this  simple 
occurrence,  and  Mrs.  Quimby  might  have  forgotten 
all  about  it  if  Miss  Demarest  had  not  made  a  cer- 
tain remark  on  leaving  the  room.  The  bareness  and 
inhospitable  aspect  of  the  place  may  have  struck  her, 
for  she  stopped  in  the  doorway  and,  looking  back, 
exclaimed:  "  What  ugly  paper!  Magenta,  too,  the 
one  colour  my  mother  hates."  This  Mrs.  Quimby 
remembered,  for  she  also  hated  magenta,  and  never 
went  into  this  room  if  she  could  help  it. 

The  business  which  kept  them  all  up  that  night 


68  ROOM  NUMBER  3 

was  one  totally  disconnected  with  the  Demarests  or 
any  one  else  in  the  house.  A  large  outstanding 
obligation  was  coming  due  which  Quimby  lacked 
the  money  to  meet.  Something  must  be  done  with 
the  stolen  notes  and  jewelry  which  they  had  accumu- 
lated in  times  past  and  had  never  found  the  will  or 
courage  to  dispose  of.  A  choice  must  be  made  of 
what  was  salable.  But  what  choice?  It  was  a 
question  that  opened  the  door  to  endless  controversy 
and  possibly  to  a  great  difference  of  opinion;  for 
in  his  way  Quimby  was  a  miser  of  the  worst  type  and 
cared  less  for  what  money  would  do  than  for  the 
sight  and  feeling  of  the  money  itself,  while  Mrs. 
Quimby  was  even  more  tenacious  in  her  passion  for 
the  trinkets  and  gems  which  she  looked  upon  as  her 
part  of  the  booty.  Jake,  on  the  contrary,  cared  little 
for  anything  but  the  good  of  the  couple  to  whom 
he  had  attached  himself.  He  wished  Quimby  to  be 
satisfied,  but  not  at  Mrs.  Quimby's  expense.  He  was 
really  fond  of  the  woman  and  he  was  resolved  that 
she  should  have  no  cause  to  grieve,  even  if  he  had 
to  break  with  the  old  man.  Little  did  any  of  them 
foresee  what  the  night  really  held  for  them,  or  on 
what  a  jagged  and  unsuspected  rock  their  frail  bark 
was  about  to  split. 

Shutting-up  time  came,  and  with  it  the  usual  mid- 
night quiet.  All  the  doors  had  been  locked  and  the 
curtains  drawn  over  the  windows  and  across  the 
glass  doors  of  the  office.  They  were  determined  to 
do  what  they  had  never  done  before,  lay  out  the 
loot  and  make  a  division.  Quimby  was  resolved  to 


ROOM  NUMBER  3  69 

see  the  diamonds  which  hts  wife  had  kept  hidden 
for  so  long,  and  she,  the  securities,  concerning  the 
value  of  which  he  had  contradicted  himself  so  often. 
Jake's  presence  would  keep  the  peace;  they  had  no 
reason  to  fear  any  undue  urging  of  his  claims.  All 
this  he  knew,  and  he  was  not  therefore  surprised, 
only  greatly  excited,  when,  after  a  last  quiet  look 
and  some  listening  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs,  Mr. 
Quimby  beckoned  him  into  the  office  and,  telling  him 
to  lock  the  door  behind  him,  stepped  around  the  bar 
to  summon  his  wife.  Jake  never  knew  how  it  hap- 
pened. He  flung  the  door  to  and  locked  it,  as  he 
thought,  but  he  must  have  turned  the  key  too  quickly, 
for  the  bolt  of  the  lock  did  not  enter  the  jamb,  as 
they  afterward  found.  Meanwhile  they  felt  per- 
fectly secure.  The  jewels  were  brought  out  of  Mrs. 
Quimby's  bedroom  and  laid  on  the  desk.  The  se- 
curities were  soon  laid  beside  them.  They  had  been 
concealed  behind  a  movable  brick  at  the  side  of  the 
fireplace.  Then  the  discussion  began,  involving  more 
or  less  heat  and  excitement. 

How  long  this  lasted  no  one  ever  knew.  At  half- 
past  eleven  no  change  of  attitude  had  taken  place 
either  in  Quimby  or  his  wife.  At  twelve  the  only 
difference  marked  by  Jake  was  the  removal  of  the 
securities  to  Quimby's  breast  pocket,  and  of  the  dia- 
mond-studded chain  to  Mrs.  Quimby's  neck.  The 
former  were  too  large  for  the  pocket,  the  latter  too 
brilliant  for  the  dark  calico  background  they  blazed 
against.  Jake,  who  was  no  fool,  noted  both  facts,  but 
had  no  words  for  the  situation.  He  was  absorbed, 


7«  ROOM  NUMBER  3 

and  he  saw  that  Quimby  was  absorbed,  in  watching 
her  broad  hand  creeping  over  those  diamonds  and 
huddling  them  up  in  a  burning  heap  against  her  heart. 
There  was  fear  in  the  action,  fierce  and  overmas- 
tering fear,  and  so  there  was  in  her  eyes  which, 
fixed  and  glassy,  stared  over  their  shoulders  at  the 
wall  behind,  as  though  something  had  reached  out 
from  that  wall  and  struck  at  the  very  root  of  her 
being.  What  did  it  mean?  There  was  nothing  in 
the  room  to  affright  her.  Had  she  gone  daft? 
Or 

Suddenly  they  both  felt  the  blood  congeal  in  their 
own  veins;  each  turned  to  each  a  horrified  face, 
then  slowly  and  as  if  drawn  by  a  power  supernat- 
ural and  quite  outside  of  their  own  will,  their  two 
heads  turned  in  the  direction  she  was  looking,  and 
they  beheld  standing  in  their  midst  a  spectre — no,  it 
was  the  figure  of  a  living,  breathing  woman,  with 
eyes  fastened  on  those  jewels, — those  well-known, 
much-advertised  jewels!  So  much  they  saw  in  that 
instant  flash,  then  nothing!  For  Quimby,  in  a  frenzy 
of  unreasoning  fear,  had  taken  the  chair  from  un- 
der him  and  had  swung  it  at  the  figure.  A  lamp 
had  stood  on  the  bar  top.  It  was  caught  by  the 
backward  swing  of  the  chair,  overturned  asd 
quenched.  The  splintering  of  glass  mingled  its  small 
sound  with  an  ominous  thud  in  the  thick  darkness. 
It  was  the  end  of  all  things;  the  falling  of  an  im- 
penetrable curtain  over  a  horror  half  sensed,  yet 
all  the  greater  for  its  mystery. 

The  silence — the  terror — the  unspeakable  sense 


ROOM  NUMBER  3  71 

of  doom  which  gripped  them  all  was  not  broken  by 
a  heart-beat.  All  listened  for  a  stir,  a  movement 
where  they  could  see  nothing.  But  the  stillness  re- 
mained unbroken.  The  silence  was  absolute.  The 
figure  which  they  had  believed  themselves  to  have 
seen  had  been  a  dream,  an  imagination  of  their  over- 
wrought minds.  It  could  not  be  otherwise.  The 
door  had  been  locked,  entrance  was  impossible;  yet 
doubt  held  them  powerless.  The  moments  were 
making  years  of  themselves.  To  each  came  in  a  flash 
a  review  of  every  earthly  incident  they  had  experi- 
enced, every  wicked  deed,  every  unholy  aspiration. 
Quimby  gritted  his  teeth.  It  was  the  first  sound 
which  had  followed  that  thud  and,  slight  as  it  was, 
it  released  them  somewhat  from  their  awful  tension. 
Jake  felt  that  he  could  move  now,  and  was  about 
to  let  forth  his  imprisoned  breath  when  he  felt  the 
touch  of  icy  fingers  trailing  over  his  cheek,  and 
started  back  with  a  curse.  It  was  Mrs.  Quimby 
feeling  about  for  him  in  the  impenetrable  darkness, 
and  in  another  moment  he  could  hear  her  smoth- 
ered whisper: 

"  Are  you  there,  Jake?  " 

"  Yes;  where  are  you?  " 

"  Here,"  said  the  woman,  with  an  effort  to  keep 
her  teeth  from  striking  together. 

"  For  God's  sake,  a  light!  "  came  from  the  hollow 
darkness  beyond. 

It  was  Quimby's  voice  at  last.    Jake  answered : 

"  No  light  for  me.  I'll  stay  where  I  am  till  day- 
break." 


72  ROOM  NUMBER  3 

"  Get  a  light,  you  fool !  "  commanded  Quimby, 
but  not  without  a  tremble  in  his  usually  mild  tone. 

Hard  breathing  from  Jake,  but  no  other  re- 
sponse. Quimby  seemed  to  take  a  step  nearer,  for 
his  voice  was  almost  at  their  ears  now. 

*'  Jake,  you  can  have  anything  I've  got  so  as  you 
get  a  light  now." 

"  There  ain't  nothing  to  light  here.  You  broke 
the  lamp." 

Quiet  for  a  moment,  then  Quimby  muttered 
hoarsely: 

"  If  you  ain't  scared  out  of  your  seven  senses, 
you  can  go  down  cellar  and  bring  up  that  bit  of  can- 
dle 'longside  the  ale-barrels." 

Into  the  cellar!  Not  Jake.  The  moving  of  the 
rickety  table  which  his  fat  hand  had  found  and 
rested  on  spoke  for  him. 

Another  curse  from  Quimby.  Then  the  woman, 
though  with  some  hesitation,  said  with  more  self- 
control  than  could  be  expected : 

"  I'll  get  it,"  and  they  heard  her  move  away  from 
it  toward  the  trap-door  behind  the  bar. 

The  two  men  made  no  objection.  To  her  that 
cold,  black  cellar  might  seem  a  refuge  from  the  un- 
seen horror  centred  here.  It  had  not  struck  them 
so.  It  had  its  own  possibilities,  and  Jake  wondered 
at  her  courage,  as  he  caught  the  sound  of  her  grop- 
ing advance  and  the  sudden  clatter  and  clink  of  bot- 
tles as  the  door  came  up  and  struck  the  edge  of  the 
bar.  There  was  life  and  a  suggestion  of  home  in 
that  clatter  and  clink,  and  all  breathed  easier  for  a 


ROOM  NUMBER  3  73 

moment,  but  only  for  a  moment.  The  something 
lying  there  behind  them,  or  was  it  almost  under 
their  feet,  soon  got  its  hold  again  upon  their  fears, 
and  Jake  found  himself  standing  stock-still,  listening 
both  ways  for  that  dreaded,  or  would  it  be  wel- 
come, movement  on  the  floor  behind,  and  to  the 
dragging  sound  of  Mrs.  Quimby's  skirt  and  petti- 
coat as  she  made  her  first  step  down  those  cellar- 
stairs.  What  an  endless  time  it  took!  He  could 
rush  down  there  in  a  minute,  but  she — she  could  not 
have  reached  the  third  step  yet,  for  that  always 
creaked.  Now  it  did  creak.  Then  there  was  no 
sound  for  some  time,  unless  it  was  the  panting  of 
Quimby's  breath  somewhere  over  by  the  bar.  Then 
the  stair  creaked  again.  She  must  be  nearly  up. 

"  Here's  matches  and  the  candle,"  came  in  a  hol- 
low voice  from  the  trap-stairs. 

A  faint  streak  appeared  for  an  instant  against  the 
dark,  then  disappeared.  Another;  but  no  lasting 
light.  The  matches  were  too  damp  to  burn. 

"Jake,  ain't  you  got  a  match?"  appealed  the 
voice  of  Quimby  in  half-choked  accents. 

After  a  bit  of  fumbling  a  small  blaze  shot  up 
from  where  Jake  stood.  Its  sulphurous  smell  may 
have  suggested  to  all,  as  it  did  to  one,  the  im- 
measurable distance  of  heaven  at  that  moment,  and 
the  awful  nearness  of  hell.  They  could  see  now,  but 
not  one  of  them  looked  in  the  direction  where  all 
their  thoughts  lay.  Instead  of  that,  they  rolled  their 
eyes  on  each  other,  while  the  match  burned  slowly 


74  ROOM  NUMBER  3 

out :  Mrs.  Quimby  from  the  trap,  her  husband  from 
the  bar,  and  Jake.  Suddenly  he  found  words,  and 
his  cry  rang  through  the  room: 

"  The  candle !  the  candle !  this  is  my  only  match. 
Where  is  the  candle?  " 

Quimby  leaped  forward  and  with  shaking  hand 
held  the  worn  bit  of  candle  to  the  flame.  It  failed 
to  ignite.  The  horrible,  dreaded  darkness  was  about 

to  close  upon  them  again  before — before But 

another  hand  had  seized  the  candle.  Mrs.  Quimby 
has  come  forward,  and  as  the  match  sends  up  its 
last  flicker,  thrusts  the  wick  against  the  flame  and 
the  candle  flares  up.  It  is  lighted. 

Over  it  they  give  each  other  one  final  appealing 
stare.  There's  no  help  for  it  now;  they  must  look. 
Jake's  head  turned  first,  then  Mrs.  Quimby,  and 
then  that  of  the  real  aggressor. 

A  simultaneous  gasp  from  them  all  betrays  the 
worst.  It  had  been  no  phantom  called  into  being 
by  their  overtaxed  nerves.  A  woman  lay  before 
them,  face  downward  on  the  hard  floor.  A  woman 
dressed  in  black,  with  hat  on  head  and  a  little 
satchel  clutched  in  one  stiff,  outstretched  hand. 
Miss  Demarest's  mother!  The  little  old  lady  who 
had  come  into  the  place  four  hours  before! 

With  a  muttered  execration,  Jake  stepped  over 
to  her  side  and  endeavoured  to  raise  her;  but  he 
instantly  desisted,  and  looking  up  at  Quimby  and 
his  wife,  moved  his  lips  with  the  one  fatal  word 
which  ends  all  hope: 

"Dead!" 


ROOM  NUMBER  3  75 

They  listened  appalled.  "Dead?"  echoed  the 
now  terrified  Quimby. 

"  Dead?"  repeated  his  no  less  agitated  wife. 

Jake  was  the  least  overcome  of  the  three.  With 
another  glance  at  the  motionless  figure,  he  rose,  and 
walking  around  the  body,  crossed  to  the  door  and 
seeing  what  he  had  done  to  make  entrance  possible, 
cursed  himself  and  locked  it  properly.  Meanwhile, 
Mrs.  Quimby,  with  her  eyes  on  her  husband,  had 
backed  slowly  away  till  she  had  reached  the  desk, 
against  which  she  now  stood  with  fierce  and  furious 
eyes,  still  clutching  at  her  chain. 

Quimby  watched  her  fascinated.  He  had  never 
seen  her  look  like  this  before.  What  did  it  portend? 
They  were  soon  to  know. 

"  Coward!  "  fell  from  her  lips,  as  she  stared  with 
unrelenting  hate  at  her  husband.  "  An  old  woman 
who  was  not  even  conscious  of  what  she  saw!  I'll 
not  stand  for  this  killing,  Jacob.  You  may  count 

me  out  of  this  and  the  chain,  too.  If  you  don't " 

a  threatening  gesture  finished  the  sentence  and  the 
two  men  looking  at  her  knew  that  they  had  come  up 
against  a  wall. 

"  Susan !  "  Was  that  Quimby  speaking  ?  "  Susan, 
are  you  going  back  on  me  now?  " 

She  pointed  at  the  motionless  figure  lying  in  its 
shrouding  black  like  an  ineffaceable  blot  on  the  of- 
fice floor,  then  at  the  securities  shewing  above  the 
edge  of  his  pocket. 

"  Were  we  not  close  enough  to  discovery,  with- 
out drawing  the  attention  of  the  police  by  such  an 


76  ROOM  NUMBER  3 

unnecessary  murder?  She  was  walking  in  her  sleep. 
I  remember  her  eyes  as  she  advanced  toward  me; 
there  was  no  sight  in  them." 

"  You  lie !  "  It  was  the  only  word  which  Quimby 
found  to  ease  the  shock  which  this  simple  statement 
caused  him.  But  Jake  saw  from  the  nature  of  the 
glance  he  shot  at  his  poor  old  victim  that  her  words 
had  struck  home.  His  wife  saw  it,  too,  but  it  did 
not  disturb  the  set  line  of  her  determined  mouth. 

"  You'll  let  me  keep  the  chain,"  she  said,  "  and 
you'll  use  your  wits,  now  that  you  have  used  your 
hand,  to  save  yourself  and  myself  from  the  charge 
of  murder." 

Quimby,  who  was  a  man  of  great  intelligence 
when  his  faculties  were  undisturbed  by  anger  or 
shock,  knelt  and  turned  his  victim  carefully  over  so 
that  her  face  was  uppermost. 

"  It  was  not  murder,"  he  uttered  in  an  indescrib- 
able tone  after  a  few  minutes  of  cautious  scrutiny. 
"  The  old  lady  fell  and  struck  her  forehead.  See ! 
the  bruise  is  scarcely  perceptible.  Had  she  been 
younger " 

"  A  sudden  death  from  any  cause  in  this  house  at 
just  this  time  is  full  of  danger  for  us,"  coldly  broke 
in  his  wife. 

The  landlord  rose  to  his  feet,  walked  away  to  the 
window,  dropped  his  head,  thought  for  a  minute, 
and  then  slowly  came  back,  glanced  at  the  woman 
again,  at  her  dress,  her  gloved  hands,  and  her  little 
satchel. 

"  She  didn't  die  in  this  house,"  fell  from  his  lips 


ROOM  NUMBER  3  77 

in  his  most  oily  accents.  "  She  fell  in  the  woods; 
the  path  is  full  of  bared  roots,  and  there  she  must 
be  found  to-morrow  morning.  Jake,  are  you  up  to 
the  little  game?  " 

Jake,  who  was  drawing  his  first  full  breath,  an- 
swered with  a  calm  enough  nod,  whereupon  Quimby 
bade  his  wife  to  take  a  look  outside  and  see  if  the 
way  was  clear  for  them  to  carry  the  body  out. 

She  did  not  move.  He  fell  into  a  rage;  an  un- 
usual thing  for  him. 

"  Bestir  yourself!  do  as  I  bid  you,"  he  muttered. 

Her  eyes  held  his;  her  face  took  on  the  look  he 
had  learned  to  dread.  Finally  she  spoke : 

"  And  the  daughter !  What  about  the  daugh- 
ter?" 

Quimby  stood  silent;  then  with  a  sidelong  leer, 
and  in  a  tone  smooth  as  oil,  but  freighted  with  pur- 
pose, "  The  mother  first;  we'll  look  after  the  daugh- 
ter later." 

Mrs.  Quimby  shivered;  then  as  her  hand  spread 
itself  over  the  precious  chain  sparkling  with  the 
sinister  gleam  of  serpent's  eyes  on  her  broad  bosom, 
she  grimly  muttered : 

"  How?    I'm  for  no  more  risks,  I  tell  you." 

Jake  took  a  step  forward.  He  thought  his  mas- 
ter was  about  to  rush  upon  her.  But  he  was  only 
gathering  up  his  faculties  to  meet  the  new  problem 
she  had  flung  at  him. 

"The  girl's  a  mere  child;  we  shall  have  no  diffi- 
culty with  her,"  he  muttered  broodingly.  "  Who 
saw  these  two  come  in?  " 


78  ROOM  NUMBER  3 

Then  it  came  out  that  no  one  but  themselves  had 
been  present  at  their  arrival.  Further  consultation 
developed  that  the  use  to  which  Number  3  had  been 
put  was  known  to  but  one  of  the  maids,  who  could 
easily  be  silenced.  Whereupon  Quimby  told  his 
scheme.  Mrs.  Quimby  was  satisfied,  and  he  and 
Jake  prepared  to  carry  it  out. 

The  sensations  of  the  next  half-hour,  as  told  by 
Jake,  would  make  your  flesh  creep.  They  did  not 
dare  to  carry  a  lamp  to  light  the  gruesome  task,  and 
well  as  they  knew  the  way,  the  possibilities  of  a 
stumble  or  a  fall  against  some  one  of  the  many  trees 
they  had  to  pass  filled  them  with  constant  terror. 
They  did  stumble  once,  and  the  low  cry  Jake  uttered 
caused  them  new  fears.  Was  that  a  window  they 
heard  flying  up?  No;  but  something  moved  in  the 
bushes.  They  were  sure  of  this  and  guiltily  shook 
in  their  shoes;  but  nothing  advanced  out  of  the 
shadows,  and  they  went  on. 

But  the  worst  was  when  they  had  to  turn  their 
backs  upon  the  body  left  lying  face  downward  in 
the  cold,  damp  woods.  Men  of  no  compassion,  un- 
reached  by  ordinary  sympathies,  they  felt  the  fur- 
tive skulking  back,  step  by  step,  along  ways  common- 
place enough  in  the  daytime,  but  begirt  with  terrors 
now  and  full  of  demoniac  suggestion. 

The  sight  of  a  single  thread  of  light  marking  the 
door  left  ajar  for  them  by  Mrs.  Quimby  was  a 
beacon  of  hope  which  was  not  even  disturbed  by  the 
sight  of  her  wild  figure  walking  in  a  circle  round 
and  round  the  office,  the  stump  of  candle  dripping 


ROOM  NUMBER  3  79 

unheeded  over  her  fingers,  and  her  eyes  almost  as 
sightless  as  those  of  the  form  left  in  the  woods. 

"  Susan !  "  exclaimed  her  husband,  laying  hand  on 
her. 

She  paused  at  once.  The  presence  of  the  two 
men  had  restored  her  self-possession. 

But  all  was  not  well  yet.  Jake  drew  Quimby's 
attention  to  the  register  where  the  two  names  of 
mother  and  daughter  could  be  seen  in  plain  black 
and  white. 

"Oh,  that's  nothing!"  exclaimed  the  landlord, 
and,  taking  out  his  knife,  he  ripped  the  leaf  out,  to- 
gether with  the  corresponding  one  in  the  back. 
"  The  devil's  on  our  side  all  right,  or  why  did  she 
pass  over  the  space  at  the  bottom  of  the  page  and 
write  their  two  names  at  the  top  of  the  next  one?  " 

He  started,  for  his  wife  had  clutched  his  arm. 

"  Yes,  the  devil's  on  our  side  thus  far,"  said  she, 
"  but  here  he  stops.  I  have  just  remembered  some- 
thing that  will  upset  our  whole  plan  and  possibly 
hang  us.  Miss  Demarest  visited  her  mother  in 
Number  3  and  noticed  the  room  well,  and  particu- 
larly the  paper.  Now  if  she  is  able  to  describe  that 
paper,  it  might  not  be  so  easy  for  us  to  have  our 
story  believed." 

For  a  minute  all  stood  aghast,  then  Jake  quietly 
remarked:  "  It  is  now  one  by  the  clock.  If  you  can 
find  me  some  of  that  old  blue  paper  I  once  chucked 
under  the  eaves  in  the  front  attic,  I  will  engage  to 
have  it  on  those  four  walls  before  daylight.  Bring 
the  raggedest  rolls  you  can  find.  If  it  shouldn't  be 


8o  ROOM  NUMBER  3 

dry  to  the  touch  when  they  come  to  see  it  to-morrow, 
it  must  look  so  stained  and  old  that  no  one  will  think 
of  laying  hand  on  it.  I'll  go  make  the  paste." 

As  Jake  was  one  of  the  quickest  and  most  precise 
of  workers  at  anything  he  understood,  this  astonish- 
ing offer  struck  the  other  two  as  quite  feasible.  The 
paper  was  procured,  the  furniture  moved  back,  and 
a  transformation  made  in  the  room  in  question 
which  astonished  even  those  concerned  in  it.  Dawn 
rose  upon  the  completed  work  and,  the  self-posses- 
sion of  all  three  having  been  restored  with  the 
burning  up  of  such  scraps  as  remained  after  the  four 
walls  were  covered,  they  each  went  to  their  several 
beds  for  a  half-hour  of  possible  rest.  Jake's  was 
in  Number  3.  He  has  never  said  what  that  half- 
hour  was  to  him ! 

The  rest  we  know.  The  scheme  did  not  fully 
succeed,  owing  to  the  interest  awakened  in  one  man's 
mind  by  the  beauty  and  seeming  truth  of  Miss  Dem- 
arest.  Investigation  followed  which  roused  the 
landlord  to  the  danger  threatening  them  from 
the  curiosity  of  Hammersmith,  and  it  being  neck  or 
nothing  with  him,  he  planned  the  deeper  crime  of 
burning  up  room  and  occupant  before  further  dis- 
coveries could  be  made.  What  became  of  him  in 
the  turmoil  which  followed,  no  one  could  tell,  not 
even  Jake.  They  had  been  together  in  Jake's 
room  before  the  latter  ran  out  with  his  gun,  but 
beyond  that  the  clerk  knew  nothing.  Of  Mrs. 
Quimby  he  could  tell  more.  She  had  not  been  taken 
into  their  confidence  regarding  the  fire,  some  small 


ROOM  NUMBER  3  81 

grains  of  humanity  remaining  in  her  which  they 
feared  might  upset  their  scheme.  She  had  only  been 
given  some  pretext  for  locking  Huldah  in  her  room, 
and  it  was  undoubtedly  her  horror  at  her  own  deed 
when  she  saw  to  what  it  had  committed  her  which 
unsettled  her  brain  and  made  her  a  gibbering  idiot 
for  life. 

Or  was  it  some  secret  knowledge  of  her  hus- 
band's fate,  unknown  to  others?  We  cannot  tell, 
for  no  sign  nor  word  of  Jacob  Quimby  ever  came 
to  dispel  the  mystery  of  his  disappearance. 

And  this  is  the  story  of  Three  Forks  Tavern  and 
the  room  numbered  3. 


MIDNIGHT   IN   BEAUCHAMP   ROW 


IT  was  the  last  house  in  Beauchamp  Row,  and  it 
stood  several  rods  away  from  its  nearest  neighbour. 
It  was  a  pretty  house  in  the  daytime,  but  owing  to 
its  deep,  sloping  roof  and  small  bediamonded  win- 
dows it  had  a  lonesome  look  at  night,  notwithstand- 
ing the  crimson  hall-light  which  shone  through  the 
leaves  of  its  vine-covered  doorway. 

Ned  Chivers  lived  in  it  with  his  six  months'  mar- 
ried bride,  and  as  he  was  both  a  busy  fellow  and  a 
gay  one  there  were  many  evenings  when  pretty  Letty 
Chivers  sat  alone  until  near  midnight. 

She  was  of  an  uncomplaining  spirit,  however, 
and  said  little,  though  there  were  times  when 
both  the  day  and  evening  seemed  very  long  and 
married  life  not  altogether  the  paradise  she  had 
expected. 

On  this  evening — a  memorable  evening  for  her, 
the  24th  of  December,  1911 — she  had  expected  her 
husband  to  remain  with  her,  for  it  was  not  only 
Christmas  eve,  but  the  night  when,  as  manager  of  a 
large  manufacturing  concern,  he  brought  up  from 
New  York  the  money  with  which  to  pay  off  the  men 
on  the  next  working  day,  and  he  never  left  her  when 
there  was  any  unusual  amount  of  money  in  the 
house.  But  with  the  first  glimpse  she  had  of  his 
figure  coming  up  the  road  she  saw  that  for  some  rea- 
son it  was  not  to  be  thus  to-night,  and,  indignant, 
alarmed  almost,  at  the  prospect  of  a  lonesome  even- 

8.S 


86         MIDNIGHT  IN  BEAUCHAMP  ROW 

ing  under  such  circumstances,  she  ran  hastily  down 
to  the  gate  to  meet  him,  crying: 

"  Oh,  Ned,  you  look  so  troubled  I  know  you  have 
only  come  home  for  a  hurried  supper.  But  you 
cannot  leave  me  to-night.  Tennie "  (their  only 
maid)  "  has  gone  for  a  holiday,  and  I  never  can 
stay  in  this  house  alone  with  all  that."  She  pointed 
to  the  small  bag  he  carried,  which,  as  she  knew,  was 
filled  to  bursting  with  bank  notes. 

He  certainly  looked  troubled.  It  is  hard  to  re- 
sist the  entreaty  in  a  young  bride's  uplifted  face. 
But  this  time  he  could  not  help  himself,  and  he 
said : 

"  I  am  dreadfully  sorry,  but  I  must  ride  over  to 
Fairbanks  to-night.  Mr.  Pierson  has  given  me  an 
imperative  order  to  conclude  a  matter  of  business 
there,  and  it  is  very  important  that  it  should  be 
done.  I  should  lose  my  position  if  I  neglected  the 
matter,  and  no  one  but  Hasbrouck  and  Suffern 
knows  that  we  keep  the  money  in  the  house.  I  have 
always  given  out  that  I  intrusted  it  to  Hale's  safe 
over  night." 

"  But  I  cannot  stand  it,"  she  persisted.  "  You 
have  never  left  me  on  these  nights.  That  is  why  I 
let  Tennie  go.  I  will  spend  the  evening  at  The 
Larches,  or,  better  still,  call  in  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Tal- 
cott  to  keep  me  company." 

But  her  husband  did  not  approve  of  her  going 
out  or  of  her  having  company.  The  Larches  was 
too  far  away,  and  as  for  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Talcott, 
they  were  meddlesome  people,  whom  he  had  never 


MIDNIGHT  IN  BEAUCHAMP  ROW         87 

liked;  besides,  Mrs.  Talcott  was  delicate,  and  the 
night  threatened  storm.  Let  her  go  to  bed  like  a 
good  girl,  and  think  nothing  about  the  money,  which 
he  would  take  care  to  put  away  in  a  very  safe  place. 

"  Or,"  said  he,  kissing  her  downcast  face,  "  per- 
haps you  would  rather  hide  it  yourself;  women  al- 
ways have  curious  ideas  about  such  things." 

"  Yes,  let  me  hide  it,"  she  entreated.  "  The 
money,  I  mean,  not  the  bag.  Every  one  knows  the 
bag.  I  should  never  dare  to  leave  it  in  that."  And 
begging  him  to  unlock  it,  she  began  to  empty  it  with 
a  feverish  haste  that  rather  alarmed  him,  for  he 
surveyed  her  anxiously  and  shook  his  head  as  if  he 
dreaded  the  effects  of  this  excitement  upon  her. 

But  as  he  saw  no  way  out  of  the  difficulty,  he  con- 
fined himself  to  using  such  soothing  words  as  were 
at  his  command,  and  then,  humouring  her  weakness, 
helped  her  to  arrange  the  bills  in  the  place  she  had 
chosen,  and  restuffing  the  bag  with  old  receipts  till  it 
acquired  its  former  dimensions,  he  put  a  few  bills  on 
top  to  make  the  whole  look  natural,  and,  laughing 
at  her  white  face,  relocked  the  bag  and  put  the  key 
back  in  his  pocket. 

"There,  dear;  a  notable  scheme  and  one  that 
should  relieve  your  mind  entirely!  "  he  cried.  "  If 
any  one  should  attempt  burglary  in  my  absence  and 
should  succeed  in  getting  into  a  house  as  safely 
locked  as  this  will  be  when  I  leave  it,  then  trust  to 
their  being  satisfied  when  they  see  this  booty,  which 
I  shall  hide  where  I  always  hide  it — in  the  cupboard 
over  my  desk." 


88        MIDNIGHT  IN  BEAUCHAMP  ROW 

"  And  when  will  you  be  back?  "  she  questioned, 
trembling  in  spite  of  herself  at  these  preparations. 

"  By  one  o'clock  if  possible.      Certainly  by  two." 

"  And  our  neighbours  go  to  bed  at  ten,"  she  mur- 
mured. But  the  words  were  low,  and  she  was  glad 
he  did  not  hear  them,  for  if  it  was  his  duty  to  obey 
the  orders  he  had  received,  then  it  was  her  duty  to 
meet  the  position  in  which  it  left  her  as  bravely  as 
she  could. 

At  supper  she  was  so  natural  that  his  face  rapidly 
brightened,  and  it  was  with  quite  an  air  of  cheer- 
fulness that  he  rose  at  last  to  lock  up  the  house  and 
make  such  preparations  as  were  necessary  for  his 
dismal  ride  over  the  mountains  to  Fairbanks.  She 
had  the  supper  dishes  to  wash  up  in  Tennie's  ab- 
sence, and  as  she  was  a  busy  little  housewife  she 
found  herself  singing  a  snatch  of  song  as  she  passed 
back  and  forth  from  dining-room  to  kitchen.  He 
heard  it,  too,  and  smiled  to  himself  as  he  bolted  the 
windows  on  the  ground  floor  and  examined  the  locks 
of  the  three  lower  doors,  and  when  he  finally  came 
into  the  kitchen  with  his  greatcoat  on  to  give  her 
his  final  kiss,  he  had  but  one  parting  injunction  to 
urge,  and  this  was  for  her  to  lock  and  bolt  the  front 
door  after  him  and  then  forget  the  whole  matter  till 
she  heard  his  double  knock  at  midnight. 

She  smiled  and  held  up  her  ingenuous  face. 

"  Be  careful  of  yourself,"  she  begged  of  him.  "  I 
hate  this  dark  ride  for  you,  and  on  such  a  night  too." 
And  she  ran  with  him  to  the  door  to  look  out. 

"  It  is  certainly  very  dark,"  he  responded,  "  but 


MIDNIGHT  IN  BEAUCHAMP  ROW         89 

I'm  to  have  one  of  Brown's  safest  horses.  Do  not 
worry  about  me.  I  shall  do  well  enough,  and  so 
will  you,  too,  or  you  are  not  the  plucky  little  woman 
I  have  always  thought  you." 

She  laughed,  but  there  was  a  choking  sound  in 
her  voice  that  made  him  look  at  her  again.  But  at 
sight  of  his  anxiety  she  recovered  herself,  and  point- 
ing to  the  clouds  said  earnestly: 

"  It's  going  to  snow.  Be  careful  as  you  ride  by 
the  gorge,  Ned;  it  is  very  deceptive  there  in  a  snow- 
storm." 

But  he  vowed  that  it  would  not  snow  before  morn- 
ing and  giving  her  one  final  embrace  he  dashed 
down  the  path  toward  Brown's  livery  stable.  "  Oh, 
what  is  the  matter  with  me?  "  she  murmured  to  her- 
self as  his  steps  died  out  in  the  distance.  "  I  never 
knew  I  was  such  a  coward."  And  she  paused  for 
a  moment,  looking  up  and  down  the  road,  as  if  in 
despite  of  her  husband's  command  she  had  the 
desperate  idea  of  running  away  to  some  neigh- 
bour. 

But  she  was  too  loyal  for  that,  and  smothering 
a  sigh  she  retreated  into  the  house.  As  she  did  so 
the  first  flakes  fell  of  the  storm  that  was  not  to  have 
come  till  morning. 

It  took  her  an  hour  to  get  her  kitchen  in  order, 
and  nine  o'clock  struck  before  she  was  ready  to  sit 
down.  She  had  been  so  busy  she  had  not  "noticed 
how  the  wind  had  increased  or  how  rapidly  the  snow 
was  falling.  But  when  she  went  to  the  front  door 
for  another  glance  up  and  down  the  road  she  started 


90         MIDNIGHT  IN  BEAUCHAMP  ROW 

back,  appalled  at  the  fierceness  of  the  gale  and  at 
the  great  pile  of  snow  that  had  already  accumulated 
on  the  doorstep. 

Too  delicate  to  breast  such  a  wind,  she  saw  her- 
self robbed  of  her  last  hope  of  any  companionship, 
and  sighing  heavily  she  locked  and  bolted  the  door 
for  the  night  and  went  back  into  her  little  sitting- 
room,  where  a  great  fire  was  burning.  Here  she 
sat  down,  and  determined,  since  she  must  pass  the 
evening  alone,  to  do  it  as  cheerfully  as  possible, 
she  began  to  sew.  "  Oh,  what  a  Christmas  eve !  " 
she  thought,  as  a  picture  of  other  homes  rose  before 
her  eyes, — homes  in  which  husbands  sat  by  wives 
and  brothers  by  sisters ;  and  a  great  wave  of  regret 
poured  over  her  and  a  longing  for  something,  she 
hardly  dared  say  what,  lest  her  unhappiness  should 
acquire  a  sting  that  would  leave  traces  beyond  the 
passing  moment. 

The  room  in  which  she  sat  was  the  only  one  on 
the  ground  floor  except  the  dining-room  and  kitchen. 
It  therefore  was  used  both  as  parlour  and  sitting- 
room,  and  held  not  only  her  piano,  but  her  hus- 
band's desk. 

Communicating  with  it  was  the  tiny  dining-room. 
Between  the  two,  however,  was  an  entry  leading  to 
a  side  entrance.  A  lamp  was  in  this  entry,  and  she 
had  left  it  burning,  as  well  as  the  one  in  the  kitchen, 
that  the  house  might  look  cheerful  and  as  if  the 
whole  family  were  at  home. 

She  was  looking  toward  this  entry  and  wondering 
what  made  it  seem  so  dismally  dark  to  her,  when 


MIDNIGHT  IN  BEAUCHAMP  ROW         91 

there  came  a  faint  sound  from  the  door  at  its  fur- 
ther end. 

Knowing  that  her  husband  must  have  taken 
peculiar  pains  with  the  fastenings  of  this  door,  as 
it  was  the  one  toward  the  woods  and  therefore  most 
accessible  to  wayfarers,  she  sat  where  she  was,  with 
all  her  faculties  strained  to  listen.  But  no  further 
sound  came  from  that  direction,  and  after  a  few 
minutes  of  silent  terror  she  was  allowing  herself  to 
believe  that  she  had  been  deceived  by  her  fears  when 
she  suddenly  heard  the  same  sound  at  the  kitchen 
door,  followed  by  a  muffled  knock. 

Frightened  now  in  good  earnest,  but  still  alive 
to  the  fact  that  the  intruder  was  as  likely  to  be  a 
friend  as  foe,  she  stepped  to  the  door,  and  with 
her  hand  on  the  lock  stooped  and  asked  boldly 
enough  who  was  there.  But  she  received  no  answer, 
and  more  affected  by  this  unexpected  silence  than 
by  the  knock  she  had  heard,  she  recoiled  farther  and 
farther  till  not  only  the  width  of  the  kitchen,  but 
the  dining-room  also,  lay  between  her  and  the  scene 
of  her  alarm,  when  to  her  utter  confusion  the  noise 
shifted  again  to  the  side  of  the  house,  and  the  door 
she  thought  so  securely  fastened,  swung  violently 
open  as  if  blown  in  by  a  fierce  gust,  and  she  saw 
precipitated  into  the  entry  the  burly  figure  of  a 
man  covered  with  snow  and  shaking  with  the  violence 
of  the  storm  that  seemed  at  once  to  fill  the  house. 

Her  first  thought  was  that  it  was  her  husband 
come  back,  but  before  she  could  clear  her  eyes  from 
the  snow*  which  had  rushed  tumultuously  in,  he 


92         MIDNIGHT  IN  BEAUCHAMP  ROW 

had  thrown  off  his  outer  covering  and  she  found 
herself  face  to  face  with  a  man  in  whose  powerful 
frame  and  cynical  visage  she  saw  little  to  comfort 
her  and  much  to  surprise  and  alarm. 

"  Ugh !  "  was  his  coarse  and  rather  familiar  greet- 
ing. "  A  hard  night,  missus !  Enough  to  drive  any 
man  indoors.  Pardon  the  liberty,  but  I  couldn't 
wait  for  you  to  lift  the  latch;  the  wind  drove  me 
right  in." 

"Was — was  not  the  door  locked?"  she  feebly 
asked,  thinking  he  must  have  staved  it  in  with  his 
foot,  which  was  certainly  well  fitted  for  such  a  task. 

"  Not  much,"  he  chuckled.  "  I  s'pose  you're  too 
hospitable  for  that."  And  his  eyes  passed  from 
her  face  to  the  comfortable  firelight  shining  through 
the  sitting-room. 

"Is  it  refuge  you  want?"  she  demanded,  sup- 
pressing as  much  as  possible  all  signs  of  fear. 

"  Sure,  missus — what  else !  A  man  can't  live  in 
a  gale  like  that,  specially  after  a  tramp  of  twenty 
miles  or  more.  Shall  I  shut  the  door  for  you?  "  he 
asked,  with  a  mixture  of  bravado  and  good  nature 
that  frightened  her  more  and  more. 

"  I  will  shut  it,"  she  replied,  with  a  half  notion 
of  escaping  this  sinister  stranger  by  a  flight  through 
the  night. 

But  one  glance  into  the  swirling  snowstorm  de- 
terred her,  and  making  the  best  of  the  alarming 
situation,  she  closed  the  door,  but  did  not  lock  it, 
being  now  more  afraid  of  what  was  inside  the  house 
than  of  anything  left  lingering  without. 


MIDNIGHT  IN  BEAUCHAMP  ROW         93 

The  man,  whose  clothes  were  dripping  with 
water,  watched  her  with  a  cynical  smile,  and  then, 
without  any  invitation,  entered  the  dining-room, 
crossed  it,  and  moved  toward  the  kitchen  fire. 

"Ugh!  ugh!  But  it  is  warm  here!"  he  cried, 
his  nostrils  dilating  with  an  animal-like  enjoyment, 
that  in  itself  was  repugnant  to  her  womanly  delicacy. 
"  Do  you  know,  missus,  I  shall  have  to  stay  here  all 
night?  Can't  go  out  in  that  gale  again;  not  such  a 
fool."  Then  with  a  sly  look  at  her  trembling  form 
and  white  face  he  insinuatingly  added,  "  All  alone, 
missus?  " 

The  suddenness  with  which  this  was  put,  together 
with  the  leer  that  accompanied  it,  made  her  start. 
Alone?  Yes,  but  should  she  acknowledge  it? 
Would  it  not  be  better  to  say  that  her  husband  was 
upstairs?  The  man  evidently  saw  the  struggle  going 
on  in  her  mind,  for  he  chuckled  to  himself  and  called 
out  quite  boldly: 

"Never  mind,  missus;  it's  all  right.  Just  give 
me  a  bit  of  cold  meat  and  a  cup  of  tea  or  something, 
and  we'll  be  very  comfortable  together.  You're  a 
slender  slip  of  a  woman  to  be  minding  a  house  like 
this.  I'll  keep  you  company  if  you  don't  mind,  least- 
wise until  the  storm  lets  up  a  bit,  which  ain't  likely 
for  some  hours  to  come.  Rough  night,  missus, 
rough  night." 

"  I  expect  my  husband  home  at  any  time,"  she 
hastened  to  say.  And  thinking  she  saw  a  change 
in  the  man's  countenance  at  this  she  put  on  quite 
an  air  of  sudden  satisfaction  and  bounded  toward 


94        MIDNIGHT  IN  BEAUCHAMP  ROW 

the  front  of  the  house.  "There!  I  think  I  hear 
him  now,"  she  cried. 

Her  motive  was  to  gain  time,  and  if  possible  to 
obtain  the  opportunity  of  shifting  the  money  from 
the  place  where  she  had  first  put  it  into  another  and 
safer  one.  "  I  want  to  be  able,"  she  thought,  "  to 
swear  that  I  have  no  money  with  me  in  this  house. 
If  I  can  only  get  it  into  my  apron  I  will  drop  it 
outside  the  door  into  the  snowbank.  It  will  be  as 
safe  there  as  in  the  vaults  it  came  from."  And  dash- 
ing into  the  sitting-room  she  made  a  feint  of  drag- 
ging down  a  shawl  from  a  screen,  while  she  secretly 
filled  her  skirt  with  the  bills  which  had  been  put 
between  some  old  pamphlets  on  the  bookshelves. 

She  could  hear  the  man  grumbling  in  the  kitchen, 
but  he  did  not  follow  her  front,  and  taking  advan- 
tage of  the  moment's  respite  from  his  none  too  en- 
couraging presence  she  unbarred  the  door  and  cheer- 
fully called  out  her  husband's  name. 

The  ruse  was  successful.  She  was  enabled  to 
fling  the  notes  where  the  falling  flakes  would  soon 
cover  them  from  sight,  and  feeling  more  courageous, 
now  that  the  money  was  out  of  the  house,  she  went 
slowly  back,  saying  she  had  made  a  mistake,  and 
that  it  was  the  wind  she  had  heard. 

The  man  gave  a  gruff  but  knowing  guffaw  and 
then  resumed  his  watch  over  her,  following  her  steps 
as  she  proceeded  to  set  him  out  a  meal,  with  a  per- 
sistency that  reminded  her  of  a  tiger  just  on  the 
point  of  springing.  But  the  inviting  look  of  the 
viands  with  which  she  was  rapidly  setting  the  table 


MIDNIGHT  IN  BEAUCHAMP  ROW         95 

soon  distracted  his  attention,  and  allowing  himself 
one  grunt  of  satisfaction,  he  drew  up  a  chair  and 
set  himself  down  to  what  to  Jiim  was  evidently  a 
most  savoury  repast. 

"  No  beer?  No  ale?  Nothing  o'  that  sort,  eh? 
Don't  keep  a  bar?  "  he  growled,  as  his  teeth  closed 
on  a  huge  hunk  of  bread. 

She  shook  her  head,  wishing  she  had  a  little  cold 
poison  bottled  up  in  a  tight-looking  jug. 

"  Nothing  but  tea,"  she  smiled,  astonished  at  her 
own  ease  of  manner  in  the  presence  of  this  alarming 
guest. 

"  Then  let's  have  that,"  he  grumbled,  taking  the 
bowl  she  handed  him,  with  an  odd  look  that  made 
her  glad  to  retreat  to  the  other  side  of  the  room. 

"  Jest  listen  to  the  howling  wind,"  he  went  on 
between  the  huge  mouthfuls  of  bread  and  cheese 
with  which  he  was  gorging  himself.  "  But  we're 
very  comfortable,  we  two!  We  don't  mind  the 
storm,  do  we?  " 

Shocked  by  his  familiarity  and  still  more  moved 
by  the  look  of  mingled  inquiry  and  curiosity  with 
which  his  eyes  now  began  to  wander  over  the  walls 
and  cupboards,  she  hurried  to  the  window  overlook- 
ing her  nearest  neighbour,  and,  lifting  the  shade, 
peered  out.  A  swirl  o£  snowflakes  alone  confronted 
her.  She  could  neither  see  her  neighbours,  nor  could 
she  be  seen  by  them.  A  shout  from  her  to  them 
would  not  be  heard.  She  was  as  completely  iso- 
lated as  if  the  house  stood  in  the  centre  of  a  desolate 
western  plain. 


96        MIDNIGHT  IN  BEAUCHAMP  ROW 

"  I  have  no  trust  but  in  God,"  she  murmured  as 
she  came  from  the  window.  And,  nerved  to  meet 
her  fate,  she  crossed  to  the  kitchen. 

It  was  now  half-past  ten.  Two  hours  and  a  half 
must  elapse  before  her  husband  could  possibly 
arrive. 

She  set  her  teeth  at  the  thought  and  walked  reso- 
lutely into  the  room. 

"  Are  you  done?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  am,  ma'am,"  he  leered.  "  Do  you  want  me 
to  wash  the  dishes?  I  kin,  and  I  will."  And  he 
actually  carried  his  plate  and  cup  to  the  sink,  where 
he  turned  the  water  upon  them  with  another  loud 
guffaw. 

"  If  only  his  fancy  would  take  him  into  the  pan- 
try," she  thought,  "  I  could  shut  and  lock  the  door 
upon  him  and  hold  him  prisoner  till  Ned  gets 
back." 

But  his  fancy  ended  its  flight  at  the  sink,  and  be- 
fore her  hopes  had  fully  subsided  he  was  standing 
on  the  threshold  of  the  sitting-room  door. 

"  It's  pretty  here,"  he  exclaimed,  allowing  his 
eye  to  rove  again  over  every  hiding-place  within 

sight.  "  I  wonder  now "  He  stopped.  His 

glance  had  fallen  on  the  cupboard  over  her  hus- 
band's desk. 

"  Well?  "  she  asked,  anxious  to  break  the  thread 
of  his  thought,  which  was  only  too  plainly  mirrored 
in  his  eager  countenance. 

He  started,  dropped  his  eyes,  and,  turning,  sur- 
veyed her  with  a  momentary  fierceness.  But,  as  she 


MIDNIGHT  IN  BEAUCHAMP  ROW         97 

did  not  let  her  own  glance  quail,  but  continued  to 
meet  his  gaze  with  what  she  meant  for  an  ingrati- 
ating smile,  he  subdued  this  outward  manifestation 
of  passion,  and,  chuckling  to  hide  his  embarrassment, 
began  backing  into  the  entry,  leering  in  evident  en- 
joyment of  the  fears  he  caused. 

However,  once  in  the  hall,  he  hesitated  for  a 
long  time ;  then  slowly  made  for  the  garment 
he  had  dropped  on  entering,  and  stooping,  drew 
from  underneath  its  folds  a  wicked-looking  stick. 
Giving  a  kick  to  the  coat,  which  sent  it  into  a  remote 
corner,  he  bestowed  upon  her  another  smile,  and 
still  carrying  the  stick,  went  slowly  and  reluctantly 
away  into  the  kitchen. 

"  Oh,  God  Almighty,  help  me!  "  was  her  prayer. 

There  was  nothing  left  for  her  now  but  to  endure, 
so  throwing  herself  into  a  chair,  she  tried  to  calm 
the  beating  of  her  heart  and  summon  up  courage 
for  the  struggle  which  she  felt  was  before  her. 
That  he  had  come  to  rob  and  only  waited  to  take 
her  off  her  guard  she  now  felt  certain,  and  rapidly 
running  over  in  her  mind  all  the  expedients  of 
self-defence  possible  to  one  in  her  situation,  she  sud- 
denly remembered  the  pistol  which  Ned  kept  in  his 
desk. 

Oh,  why  had  she  not  thought  of  it  before !  Why 
had  she  let  herself  grow  mad  with  terror  when  here, 
within  reach  of  her  hand,  lay  such  a  means  of  self- 
defence?  With  a  feeling  of  joy  (she  had  always 
hated  pistols  before  and  scolded  Ned  when  he 
bought  this  one)  she  started  to  her  feet  and  slid  her 


98        MIDNIGHT  IN  BEAUCHAMP  ROW 

hand  into  the  drawer.  But  it  came  back  empty. 
Ned  had  taken  the  weapon  away  with  him. 

For  a  moment,  a  surge  of  the  bitterest  feeling 
she  had  ever  experienced  passed  over  her;  then  she 
called  reason  to  her  aid  and  was  obliged  to  acknowl- 
edge that  the  act  was  but  natural,  and  that  from 
his  standpoint  he  was  much  more  likely  to  need  it 
than  herself.  But  the  disappointment,  coming  so 
soon  after  hope,  unnerved  her,  and  she  sank  back 
in  her  chair,  giving  herself  up  for  lost. 

How  long  she  sat  there  with  her  eyes  on  the  door 
through  which  she  momentarily  expected  her  assail- 
ant to  reappear,  she  never  knew.  She  was  conscious 
only  of  a  sort  of  apathy  that  made  movement  dif- 
ficult and  even  breathing  a  task.  In  vain  she  tried 
to  change  her  thoughts.  In  vain  she  tried  to  follow 
her  husband  in  fancy  over  the  snow-covered  roads 
and  into  the  gorge  of  the  mountains.  Imagination 
failed  her  at  this  point.  Do  what  she  would,  all 
was  misty  to  her  mind's  eye,  and  she  could  not  see 
that  wandering  image.  There  was  blankness  be- 
tween his  form  and  her,  and  no  life  or  movement 
anywhere  but  here  in  the  scene  of  her  terror. 

Her  eyes  were  on  a  strip  of  rug  covering  the 
entry  floor,  and  so  strange  was  the  condition  of  her 
mind  that  she  found  herself  mechanically  counting 
the  tassels  finishing  off  its  edge,  growing  wroth 
over  one  that  was  worn,  till  she  hated  that  sixth 
tassel  and  mentally  determined  that  if  she  ever  out- 
lived this  night  she  would  strip  them  all  off  and  be 
done  with  them. 


MIDNIGHT  IN  BEAUCHAMP  ROW         99 

The  wind  had  lessened,  but  the  air  had  grown 
cooler  and  the  snow  made  a  sharp  sound  where  it 
struck  the  panes.  She  felt  it  falling,  though  she  had 
cut  off  all  view  of  it.  It  seemed  to  her  that  a  pall 
was  settling  over  the  world  and  that  she  would  soon 
be  smothered  under  its  folds. 

Meanwhile  no  sound  came  from  the  kitchen.  A 
dreadful  sense  of  doom  was  creeping  upon  her — a 
sense  growing  in  intensity  till  she  found  herself 
watching  for  the  shadow  of  that  lifted  stick  on  the 
wall  of  the  entry  and  almost  imagined  she  saw  the 
tip  of  it  appearing. 

But  it  was  the  door  which  again  blew  in,  admitting 
another  man  of  so  threatening  an  aspect  that  she  suc- 
cumbed instantly  before  him  and  forgot  all  her 
former  fears  in  this  new  terror. 

The  second  intruder  was  a  negro  of  powerful 
frame  and  lowering  aspect,  and  as  he  came  forward 
and  stood  in  the  doorway  there  was  observable  in 
his  fierce  and  desperate  countenance  no  attempt  at 
the  insinuation  of  the  other,  only  a  fearful  resolu- 
tion that  made  her  feel  like  a  puppet  before  him, 
and  drove  her,  almost  without  her  volition,  to  her 
knees. 

"  Money?  Is  it  money  you  want?  "  was  her  des- 
perate greeting.  "  If  so,  here's  my  purse  and  here 
are  my  rings  and  watch.  Take  them  and  go." 

But  the  stolid  wretch  did  not  even  stretch  out  his 
hands.  His  eyes  went  beyond  her,  and  the  mingled 
anxiety  and  resolve  which  he  displayed  would  have 
cowed  a  stouter  heart  than  that  of  this  poor  woman. 


ioo       MIDNIGHT  IN  BEAUCHAMP  ROW 

"  Keep  de  trash,"  he  growled.  "  I  want  de  com- 
pany's money.  You've  got  it — two  thousand  dollars. 
Show  me  where  it  is,  that's  all,  and  I  won't  trouble 
you  long  after  I  close  on  it." 

"  But  it's  not  in  the  house,"  she  cried.  "  I  swear 
it  is  not  in  the  house.  Do  you  think  Mr.  Chivers 
would  leave  me  here  alone  with  two  thousand  dol- 
lars to  guard?  " 

But  the  negro,  swearing  that  she  lied,  leaped  into 
the  room,  and  tearing  open  the  cupboard  above  her 
husband's  desk,  seized  the  bag  from  the  corner 
where  they  had  put  it. 

"  He  brought  it  in  this,"  he  muttered,  and  tried 
to  force  the  bag  open,  but  finding  this  impossible  he 
took  out  a  heavy  knife  and  cut  a  big  hole  in  its  side. 
Instantly  there  fell  out  the  pile  of  old  receipts  with 
which  they  had  stuffed  it,  and  seeing  these  he  stamped 
with  rage,  and  flinging  them  at  her  in  one  great 
handful,  rushed  to  the  drawers  below,  emptied  them, 
and,  finding  nothing,  attacked  the  bookcase. 

"  The  money  is  somewhere  here.  You  can't  fool 
me,"  he  yelled.  "  I  saw  the  spot  your  eyes  lit  on 
when  I  first  came  into  the  room.  Is  it  behind  these 
books?  "  he  growled,  pulling  them  out  and  throwing 
them  helter-skelter  over  the  floor.  "  Women  is 
smart  in  the  hiding  business.  Is  it  behind  these 
books,  I  say?" 

They  had  been,  or  rather  had  been  placed  be- 
tween the  books,  but  she  had  taken  them  away,  as 
we  know,  and  he  soon  began  to  realise  that  his 
search  was  bringing  him  nothing.  Leaving  the 


MIDNIGHT  IN  BEAUCHAMP  ROW        101 

bookcase  he  gave  the  books  one  kick,  and  seizing 
her  by  the  arm,  shook  her  with  a  murderous  glare 
on  his  strange  and  distorted  features. 

"  Where's  the  money?  "  he  hissed.  "  Tell  me,  or 
you  are  a  goner." 

He  raised  his  heavy  fist.  She  crouched  and  all 
seemed  over,  when,  with  a  rush  and  cry,  a  figure 
dashed  between  them  and  he  fell,  struck  down  by 
the  very  stick  she  had  so  long  been  expecting  to  see 
fall  upon  her  own  head.  The  man  who  had  been 
her  terror  for  hours  had  at  the  moment  of  need 
acted  as  her  protector. 

She  must  have  fainted,  but  if  so,  her  unconscious- 
ness was  but  momentary,  for  when  she  woke  again 
to  her  surroundings  she  found  the  tramp  still  stand- 
ing over  her  adversary. 

u  I  hope  you  don't  mind,  ma'am,"  he  said,  with 
an  air  of  humbleness  she  certainly  had  not  seen  in 
him  before,  "  but  I  think  the  man's  dead."  And  he 
stirred  with  his  foot  the  heavy  figure  before  him. 

"  Oh,  no,  no,  no !  "  she  cried.  "  That  would  be 
too  fearful.  He's  shocked,  stunned;  you  cannot 
have  killed  him." 

But  the  tramp  was  persistent.  "  I'm  'fraid  I 
have,"  he  said.  "  I  done  it  before.  I'm  powerful 
strong  in  the  biceps.  But  I  couldn't  see  a  man  of 
that  colour  frighten  a  lady  like  you.  My  supper 
was  too  warm  in  me,  ma'am.  Shall  I  throw  him 
outside  the  house?  " 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  and  then,  "  No;  let  us  first  be 


102       MIDNIGHT  IN  BEAUCHAMP  ROW 

sure  there  is  no  life  in  him."  And,  hardly  know- 
ing what  she  did,  she  stooped  down  and  peered  into 
the  glassy  eyes  of  the  prostrate  man. 

Suddenly  she  turned  pale — no,  not  pale,  but 
ghastly,  and  cowering  back,  shook  so  that  the  tramp, 
into  whose  features  a  certain  refinement  had  passed 
since  he  had  acted  as  her  protector,  thought  she 
had  discovered  life  in  those  set  orbs,  and  was  stoop- 
ing down  to  make  sure  that  this  was  so,  when  he 
saw  her  suddenly  lean  forward  and,  impetuously 
plunging  her  hand  into  the  negro's  throat,  tear  open 
the  shirt  and  give  one  look  at  his  bared  breast. 

It  was  wrhite. 

"  O  God!  O  God!  "  she  moaned,  and  lifting  the 
head  in  her  two  hands  she  gave  the  motionless 
features  a  long  and  searching  look.  "  Water!  "  she 
cried.  "  Bring  water."  But  before  the  now  obe- 
dient tramp  could  respond,  she  had  torn  off  the 
woolly  wig  disfiguring  the  dead  man's  head,  and  see- 
ing the  blond  curls  beneath  had  uttered  such  a  shriek 
that  it  rose  above  the  gale  and  was  heard  by  her 
distant  neighbours. 

It  was  the  head  and  hair  of  her  husband. 

They  found  out  afterwards  that  he  had  contem- 
plated this  theft  for  months;  that  each  and  every 
precaution  necessary  to  the  success  of  this  most 
daring  undertaking  had  been  made  use  of  and  that 
but  for  the  unexpected  presence  in  the  house  of  the 
tramp,  he  would  doubtless  not  only  have  extorted 
the  money  from  his  wife,  but  have  so  covered  up 


MIDNIGHT  IN  BEAUCHAMP  ROW       103 

the  deed  by  a  plausible  alibi  as  to  have  retained  her 
confidence  and  that  of  his  employers. 

Whether  the  tramp  killed  him  out  of  sympathy 
for  the  defenceless  woman  or  in  rage  at  being  dis- 
appointed in  his  own  plans  has  never  been  deter- 
mined. Mrs.  Chivers  herself  thinks  he  was  actuated 
by  a  rude  sort  of  gratitude. 


THE  RUBY  AND  THE  CALDRON 


<Copyrlght,  1905,  by  The  Bobbs-Merrill  Company 
Used  by  special  permission  of  the  publishers} 


As  there  were  two  good  men  on  duty  that  night,  I 
did  not  see  why  I  should  remain  at  my  desk,  even 
though  there  was  an  unusual  stir  created  in  our  small 
town  by  the  grand  ball  given  at  The  Evergreens. 

But  just  as  I  was  preparing  to  start  for  home,  an 
imperative  ring  called  me  to  the  telephone,  and  I 
heard: 

"  Halloo !    Is  this  the  police-station?  " 

"It  is." 

"  Well,  then,  a  detective  is  wanted  at  once  at  The 
Evergreens.  He  cannot  be  too  clever  or  too  dis- 
creet. A  valuable  jewel  has  been  lost,  which  must 
be  found  before  the  guests  disperse  for  home.  Large 
reward  if  the  matter  ends  successfully." 

"  May  I  ask  who  is  speaking  to  me?  " 

"  Mrs.  Ashley." 

It  was  the  mistress  of  The  Evergreens  and  giver 
of  the  ball. 

"  Madam,  a  man  shall  be  sent  at  once.  Where 
will  you  see  him?  " 

"  In  the  butler's  pantry  at  the  rear.  Let  him  give 
his  name  as  Jennings." 

"  Very  good.     Good-bye." 

"  Good-bye." 

"A  pretty  piece  of  work!     Should  I  send  Hen- 

dricks  or  should  I  send  Hicks?     Hendricks  was 

clever  and  Hicks  discreet,  but  neither  united  both 

qualifications  in  the  measure  demanded  by  the  sen- 

107 


io8         THE  RUBY  AND  THE  CALDRON 

sible  and  quietly  resolved  woman  with  whom  I  had 
just  been  talking.  What  alternative  remained? 
But  one :  I  must  go  myself. 

It  was  not  late — not  for  a  ball-night,  at  least — • 
and  as  half  the  town  had  been  invited  to  the  dance, 
the  streets  were  alive  with  carriages.  I  was  watch- 
ing the  blink  of  their  lights  through  the  fast-falling 
snow  when  my  attention  was  drawn  to  a  fact  which 
struck  me  as  peculiar.  These  carriages  were  all 
coming  my  way  instead  of  rolling  in  the  direction 
of  The  Evergreens.  Had  they  been  empty  this 
would  have  needed  no  explanation;  but,  so  far  as 
I  could  see,  most  of  them  were  full,  and  that, 
too,  of  loudly-talking  women  and  gesticulating 
men. 

Something  of  a  serious  nature  must  have  occurred 
at  The  Evergreens.  Rapidly  I  paced  on,  and  soon 
found  myself  before  the  great  gates. 

A  crowd  of  vehicles  of  all  descriptions  blocked 
the  entrance.  None  seemed  to  be  passing  up  the 
driveway;  all  stood  clustered  at  the  gates;  and  as 
I  drew  nearer  I  perceived  many  an  anxious  head 
thrust  forth  from  their  quickly-opened  doors,  and 
heard  many  an  ejaculation  of  disappointment  as  the 
short  interchange  of  words  went  on  between  the 
drivers  of  these  various  turnouts  and  a  man  drawn 
up  in  quiet  resolution  before  the  unexpectedly  barred 
entrance. 

Slipping  round  to  this  man's  side,  I  listened  to 
what  he  was  saying.  It  was  simple,  but  very 
explicit. 


THE  RUBY  AND  THE  CALDRON    109 

"  Mrs.  Ashley  asks  everybody's  pardon,  but  the 
ball  can't  go  on  to-night.  Something  has  happened 
which  makes  the  reception  of  further  guests  im- 
possible. To-morrow  evening  she  will  be  happy  to 
see  you  all.  The  dance  is  simply  postponed." 

This  he  had  probably  repeated  forty  times,  and 
each  time  it  had  probably  been  received  with  the 
same  mixture  of  doubt  and  curiosity  which  now  held 
the  lengthy  procession  in  check. 

Not  wishing  to  attract  attention,  yet  anxious  to 
lose  no  time,  I  pressed  up  still  nearer,  and,  bending 
towards  him  from  the  shadow  cast  by  a  convenient 
post,  uttered  the  one  word : 

"  Jennings." 

Instantly  he  unlocked  a  small  gate  at  his  right. 
I  passed  in,  and  with  professional  sang-froid  pro- 
ceeded to  take  my  way  to  the  house  through  the 
double  row  of  evergreens  bordering  the  semicircular 
approach. 

As  these  trees  stood  very  close  together,  and 
were,  besides,  heavily  laden  with  fresh-fallen  snow, 
I  failed  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  building  itself  until 
I  stood  in  front  of  it.  Then  I  saw  that  it  was 
brilliantly  lighted,  and  gave  evidence  here  and  there 
of  some  festivity;  but  the  guests  were  too  few  for 
the  effect  to  be  very  exhilarating,  and,  passing  around 
to  the  rear,  I  sought  the  special  entrance  to  which 
I  had  been  directed. 

A  heavy-browed  porch,  before  which  stood  a 
caterer's  wagon,  led  me  to  a  door  which  had  every 
appearance  of  being  the  one  I  sought.  Pushing  it 


i  io    THE  RUBY  AND  THE  CALDRON 

open,  I  entered  without  ceremony,  and  speedily 
found  myself  in  the  midst  of  twenty  or  more  col- 
oured waiters  and  chattering  housemaids.  To  one 
of  the  former  I  addressed  the  question: 

"Where  is  the  butler's  pantry?  I  am  told  that 
I  shall  find  the  lady  of  the  house  there." 

"  Your  name?  "  was  the  curt  demand. 

"  Jennings." 

"Follow  me." 

I  was  taken  through  narrow  passages  and  across 
one  or  two  storerooms  to  a  small  but  well-lighted 
closet,  where  I  was  left,  with  the  assurance  that 
Mrs.  Ashley  would  presently  join  me.  I  had  never 
seen  this  lady,  but  I  had  often  heard  her  spoken 
of  as  a  woman  of  superior  character  and  admirable 
discretion. 

She  did  not  keep  me  waiting.  In  two  minutes 
the  door  opened,  and  this  fine,  well-poised  woman 
was  telling  her  story  in  the  straightforward  manner 
I  so  much  admire. 

The  article  lost  was  a  large  ruby  of  singular 
beauty  and  great  value,  the  property  of  Mrs.  Bur- 
ton, the  Senator's  wife,  in  whose  honour  this  ball 
was  being  given.  It  had  not  been  lost  in  the  house, 
nor  had  it  been  originally  missed  this  evening.  Mrs. 
Burton  and  herself  had  attended  the  great  football 
game  in  the  afternoon,  and  it  was  on  the  college 
campus  that  Mrs.  Burton  had  first  dropped  her 
invaluable  jewel.  But  a  reward  of  five  hundred 
dollars  having  been  at  once  offered  to  whomever 
should  find  and  restore  it,  a  great  search  had  fol- 


THE  RUBY  AND  THE  CALDRON    in 

lowed,  which  ended  in  its  being  picked  up  by  one  of 
the  students,  and  brought  back  as  far  as  the  drive- 
way in  front  of  The  Evergreens,  when  it  had  again 
disappeared,  and  in  a  way  to  rouse  conjecture  of  the 
strangest  and  most  puzzling  character. 

The  young  man  who  had  brought  it  thus  far  bore 
the  name  of  John  Deane,  and  was  a  member  of  the 
senior  class.  He  had  been  the  first  to  detect  its 
sparkle  in  the  grass,  and  those  who  were  near 
enough  to  see  his  face  at  that  happy  moment  say 
that  it  expressed  the  utmost  satisfaction  at  his  good 
luck. 

"  You  see,"  said  Mrs.  Ashley,  "  he  has  a  sweet- 
heart, and  five  hundred  dollars  looks  like  a  fortune 
to  a  young  man  just  starting  life.  But  he  was  weak 
enough  to  take  this  girl  into  his  confidence;  and  on 
their  way  here — for  both  were  invited  to  the  ball — 
he  went  so  far  as  to  pull  it  out  of  his  pocket  and 
show  it  to  her. 

"  They  were  admiring  it  together,  and  vaunting 
its  beauties  to  the  young  lady  friend  who  had  accom- 
panied them,  when  their  carriage  turned  into  the 
driveway  and  they  saw  the  lights  of  the  house 
flashing  before  them.  Hastily  restoring  the  jewel 
to  the  little  bag  he  had  made  for  it  out  of  the 
finger-end  of  an  old  glove — a  bag  in  which  he 
assured  me  he  had  been  careful  to  keep  it  safely 
tied  ever  since  picking  it  up  on  the  college  green — 
he  thrust  it  back  into  his  pocket  and  prepared  to 
help  the  ladies  out.  But  just  then  a  disturbance 
arose  in  front.  A  horse  which  had  been  driven  up 


H2    THE  RUBY  AND  THE  CALDRON 

was  rearing  in  a  way  that  threatened  to  overturn  the 
light  buggy  to  which  it  was  attached.  As  the  occu- 
pants of  this  buggy  were  ladies,  and  seemed  to  have 
no  control  over  the  plunging  beast,  young  Deane 
naturally  sprang  to  the  rescue.  Bidding  his  own 
ladies  alight  and  make  for  the  porch,  he  hurriedly 
ran  forward  and,  pausing  in  front  of  the  maddened 
animal,  waited  for  an  opportunity  to  seize  him  by 
the  rein.  He  says  that  as  he  stood  there  facing  the 
beast  with  fixed  eye  and  raised  hand,  he  distinctly 
felt  something  strike  or  touch  his  breast.  But  the 
sensation  conveyed  no  meaning  to  him  in  his  excite- 
ment, and  he  did  not  think  of  it  again  till,  the  horse 
well  in  hand  and  the  two  alarmed  occupants  of  the 
buggy  rescued,  he  turned  to  see  where  his  own 
ladies  were,  and  beheld  them  looking  down  at  him 
from  the  midst  of  a  circle  of  young  people,  drawn 
from  the  house  by  the  screaming  of  the  women. 
Instantly  a  thought  of  the  treasure  he  carried  re- 
curred to  his  mind,  and  releasing  the  now  quieted 
horse,  he  thrust  his  hand  hastily  into  his  pocket. 
The  jewel  was  gone.  He  declares  that  for  a  mo- 
ment he  felt  as  if  he  had  been  struck  on  the  head 
by  one  of  the  hoofs  of  the  frantic  horse  he  had 
just  handled.  But  immediately  the  importance  of 
his  loss  and  the  necessity  he  felt  for  instant  action 
restored  him  to  himself,  and  shouting  aloud,  "  I  have 
dropped  Mrs.  Burton's  ruby !  "  he  begged  every  one 
to  stand  still  while  he  made  a  search  for  it. 

"  This  all  occurred,  as  you  must  know,  more  than 
an  hour  and  a  half  ago,  consequently  before  many  of 


THE  RUBY  AND  THE  CALDRON    113 

my  guests  had  arrived.  My  son,  who  was  one  of 
the  few  spectators  gathered  on  the  porch,  tells  me 
that  there  was  only  one  other  carriage  behind  the 
one  in  which  Mr.  Deane  had  brought  his  ladies. 
Both  of  these  had  stopped  short  of  the  stepping- 
stone,  and  as  the  horse  and  buggy  which  had  made 
all  this  trouble  had  by  this  time  been  driven  to  the 
stable,  nothing  stood  in  the  way  of  his  search  but 
the  rapidly  accumulating  snow,  which,  if  you  re- 
member, was  falling  very  thick  and  fast  at  the  time. 
"  My  son,  who  had  rushed  in  for  his  overcoat, 
came  running  down  the  steps  to  help  him.  So  did 
some  others.  But,  with  an  imploring  gesture,  he 
begged  to  be  allowed  to  conduct  the  search  alone, 
the  ground  being  in  such  a  state  that  the  delicately- 
mounted  jewel  ran  great  risk  of  being  trodden  into 
the  snow  and  thus  injured  or  lost.  They  humoured 
him  for  a  moment,  then,  seeing  that  his  efforts  bade 
fair  to  be  fruitless,  my  son  insisted  upon  joining  him, 
and  the  two  looked  the  ground  over,  inch  by  inch, 
from  the  place  where  Mr.  Deane  had  set  foot  to 
ground  in  alighting  from  his  carriage  to  the  exact 
spot  where  he  had  stood  when  he  had  finally  seized 
hold  of  the  horse.  But  no  ruby.  Then  Harrison 
(that  is  my  son's  name)  sent  for  a  broom  and  went 
over  the  place  again,  sweeping  aside  the  surface 
snow  and  examining  carefully  the  ground  beneath, 
but  with  no  better  results  than  before.  No  ruby 
could  be  found.  My  son  came  to  me  panting. 
Mrs.  Burton  and  myself  stood  awaiting  him  in  a 
state  of  suspense.  Guests  and  fete  were  alike  for- 


ii4         THE  RUBY  AND  THE  CALDRON 

gotten.  We  had  heard  that  the  jewel  had  been 
found  on  the  campus  by  one  of  the  students,  and 
had  been  brought  back  as  far  as  the  step  in  front, 
and  then  lost  again  in  some  unaccountable  manner 
in  the  snow,  and  we  hoped,  nay,  expected  from 
moment  to  moment,  that  it  would  be  brought  in. 

"  When  Harrison  finally  entered,  pale,  dishevelled 
and  shaking  his  head,  Mrs.  Burton  caught  me  by 
the  hand,  and  I  thought  she  would  faint.  For  this 
jewel  is  of  far  greater  value  to  her  than  its  mere 
worth  in  money,  though  that  is  by  no  means 
small. 

"  It  is  a  family  jewel,  and  was  given  to  her  by  her 
husband  under  special  circumstances.  He  prizes  it 
even  more  than  she  does,  and  he  is  not  here  to 
counsel  or  assist  her  in  this  extremity.  Besides,  she 
was  wearing  it  in  direct  opposition  to  his  expressed 
wishes.  This  I  must  tell  you,  to  show  how  im- 
perative it  is  for  us  to  recover  it;  also  to  account  for 
the  large  reward  she  is  willing  to  pay.  When  he 
last  looked  at  it  he  noticed  that  the  fastening  was  a 
trifle  slack,  and,  though  he  handed  the  trinket  back, 
he  told  her  distinctly  that  she  was  not  to  wear  it  till 
it  had  been  either  to  Tiffany's  or  Starr's.  But  she 
considered  it  safe  enough,  and  put  it  on  to  please  the 
boys,  and  lost  it.  Senator  Burton  is  a  hard  man 
and — in  short,  the  jewel  must  be  found.  I  give  you 
just  one  hour  in  which  to  do  it." 

"  But,  madam "    I  protested. 

"  I  know,"  she  put  in,  with  a  quick  nod  and  a 
glance  over  her  shoulder  to  see  if  the  door  was 


THE  RUBY  AND  THE  CALDRON    115 

shut.  "  I  have  not  finished  my  story.  Hearing 
what  Harrison  had  to  say,  I  took  action  at  once.  I 
bade  him  call  in  the  guests,  whom  curiosity  or 
interest  still  detained  in  the  porch,  and  seat  them  in 
a  certain  room  which  I  designated  to  him.  Then, 
after  telling  him  to  send  two  men  to  the  gates  with 
orders  to  hold  back  all  further  carriages  from  en- 
tering, and  two  others  to  shovel  up  and  cart  away 
to  the  stable  every  particle  of  snow  for  ten  feet  each 
side  of  the  front  step,  I  asked  to  see  Mr.  Deane. 
But  here  my  son  whispered  something  into  my  ear, 
which  it  is  my  duty  to  repeat.  It  was  to  the  effect 
that  Mr.  Deane  believed  that  the  jewel  had  been 
taken  from  him;  that  he  insisted,  in  fact,  that  he 
had  felt  a  hand  touch  his  breast  while  he  stood 
awaiting  an  opportunity  to  seize  the  horse.  '  Very 
good,'  said  I,  '  we'll  remember  that  too ;  but  first 
see  that  my  orders  are  carried  out,  and  that  all 
approaches  to  the  grounds  are  guarded  and  no  one 
allowed  to  come  in  or  go  out  without  permission 
from  me.' 

"  He  left  us,  and  I  was  turning  to  encourage 
Mrs.  Burton  when  my  attention  was  caught  by  the 
eager  face  of  a  little  friend  of  mine,  who,  quite 
unknown  to  me,  was  sitting  in  one  of  the  corners 
of  the  room.  She  was  studying  my  countenance 
with  a  subdued  anxiety,  hardly  natural  in  one  so 
young,  and  I  was  about  to  relieve  my  mind  by  ques- 
tioning her  when  she  made  a  sudden  rush  and 
vanished  from  the  room.  Some  impulse  made  me 
follow  her.  She  is  a  conscientious  little  thing,  but 


n6    THE  RUBY  AND  THE  CALDRON 

timid  as  a  hare,  and  though  I  saw  she  had  something 
to  say,  it  was  with  difficulty  I  could  make  her  speak. 
Only  after  the  most  solemn  assurances  that  her  name 
should  not  be  mentioned  in  the  matter  would  she 
give  me  the  following  bit  of  information,  which  you 
may  possibly  think  throws  another  light  upon  the 
affair.  It  seems  that  she  was  looking  out  of  one  of 
the  front  windows  when  Mr.  Deane's  carriage  drove 
up.  She  had  been  watching  the  antics  of  the  horse 
attached  to  the  buggy,  but  as  soon  as  she  saw  Mr. 
Deane  going  to  the  assistance  of  those  in  danger, 
she  let  her  eyes  stray  back  to  the  ladies  whom  he 
had  left  behind  him  in  the  carriage. 

"  She  did  not  know  these  ladies,  but  their  looks 
and  gestures  interested  her,  and  she  watched  them 
quite  intently  as  they  leaped  to  the  ground  and  made 
their  way  toward  the  porch.  One  went  on  quickly, 
and  without  pause,  to  the  step;  but  the  other — the 
one  who  came  last — did  not  do  this.  She  stopped  a 
moment,  perhaps  to  watch  the  horse  in  front,  per- 
haps to  draw  her  cloak  more  closely  about  her,  and 
when  she  again  moved  on  it  was  with  a  start  and 
a  hurried  glance  at  her  feet,  terminating  in  a  quick 
turn  and  a  sudden  stooping  to  the  ground.  When 
she  again  stood  upright  she  had  something  in  her 
hand  which  she  thrust  furtively  into  her  breast." 

"  How  was  this  lady  dressed?  "  I  inquired. 

"  In  a  white  cloak,  with  an  edging  of  fur.  I  took 
pains  to  learn  that  too,  and  it  was  with  some 
curiosity,  I  assure  you,  that  I  examined  the  few 
guests  that  had  now  been  admitted  to  the  room  I 


THE  RUBY  AND  THE  CALDRON    117 

had  so  carefully  pointed  out  to  my  son.  Two  of 
them  wore  white  cloaks,  but  one  of  these  was  Mrs. 
Dalrymple,  and  I  did  not  give  her  or  her  cloak  a 
second  thought.  The  other  was  a  tall,  fine-looking 
girl,  with  an  air  and  bearing  calculated  to  rouse 
admiration  if  she  had  not  looked  so  disturbed.  But 
her  preoccupation  was  evident,  a  circumstance  which, 
had  she  been  Mr.  Deane's  fiancee,  would  have  needed 
no  explanation;  but,  as  she  was  only  that  lady's 
friend,  its  cause  was  not  so  apparent. 

"  The  floor  of  the  room,  as  I  had  happily  remem- 
bered, was  covered  with  crash,  and  as  I  lifted  each 
garment  off — I  allowed  no  maid  to  assist  me  in  this 
— I  shook  it  well;  ostensibly  because  of  the  few 
flakes  clinging  to  it,  really  to  see  if  anything  could 
be  shaken  out  of  it.  Of  course,  I  met  with  no 
success.  I  had  not  expected  to,  but  it  is  my  dis- 
position to  be  thorough.  These  wraps  I  saw  all 
hung  in  an  adjoining  closet,  the  door  of  which  I 
locked — here  is  the  key — after  which  I  handed  my 
guests  over  to  my  son,  and  went  to  notify  the 
police." 

I  bowed,  and  asked  where  the  young  people  were 
now. 

"  Still  in  the  drawing-room.  I  have  ordered  the 
musicians  to  play,  and  consequently  there  is  more 
or  less  dancing.  But,  of  course,  nothing  can  remove 
the  wet  blanket  which  has  fallen  over  us  all — 
nothing  but  the  finding  of  this  jewel.  Do  you  see 
your  way  to  accomplishing  this?  We  are  from  this 
very  moment  at  your  disposal;  only  I  pray  that  you 


ii8         THE  RUBY  AND  THE  CALDRON 

will  make  no  more  disturbance  than  is  necessary, 
and,  if  possible,  arouse  no  suspicions  you  cannot 
back  up  by  facts.  I  dread  a  scandal  almost  as  much 
as  I  do  sickness  and  death,  and  these  young  people 
— well,  their  lives  are  all  before  them,  and  neither 
Mrs.  Burton  nor  myself  would  wish  to  throw  the 
shadow  of  a  false  suspicion  over  any  one  of  them." 

I  assured  her  that  I  sympathised  with  her  scru- 
ples, and  would  do  my  best  to  recover  the  ruby  with- 
out inflicting  undue  annoyance  upon  the  innocent. 
Then  I  inquired  whether  it  was  known  that  a  de- 
tective had  been  called  in.  She  seemed  to  think  it 
was  suspected  by  some,  if  not  by  all.  At  which  my 
way  seemed  a  trifle  complicated. 

We  were  about  to  proceed  when  another  thought 
struck  me.  • 

"  Madam,  you  have  not  said  whether  the  car- 
riage itself  was  searched." 

"  I  forgot.  Yes,  the  carriage  was  thoroughly 
overhauled  before  the  coachman  left  the  box." 

"Who  did  this  overhauling?" 

"  My  son.  He  would  not  trust  any  one  else  in  a 
business  of  this  kind." 

"  One  more  question,  madam.  Was  any  one  seen 
to  approach  Mr.  Deane  on  the  carriage-drive  prior 
to  his  assertion  that  the  jewel  was  lost?  " 

"  No.  And  there  were  no  tracks  in  the  snow  of 
any  such  person.  My  son  looked." 

And  I  would  look,  or  so  I  decided  within  myself, 
but  I  said  nothing;  and  in  silence  we  proceeded  to- 
ward the  drawing-room. 


THE  RUBY  AND  THE  CALDRON          119 

I  had  left  my  overcoat  behind  me,  and  always 
being  well  dressed,  I  did  not  present  so  bad  an  ap- 
pearance. Still,  I  was  not  in  party  attire,  and  nat- 
urally could  not  pass  for  a  guest  even  if  I  had  wanted 
to,  which  I  did  not.  I  felt  that  I  must  rely  on  in- 
sight in  this  case,  and  on  a  certain  power  I  had 
always  possessed  of  reading  faces.  That  the  case 
called  for  just  this  species  of  intuition  I  was  positive. 
Mrs.  Burton's  ruby  was  within  a  hundred  yards  of 
us  at  this  very  moment,  probably  within  a  hundred 
feet;  but  to  lay  hands  on  it  and  without  scandal — 
well,  that  was  a  problem  calculated  to  rouse  the 
interest  of  even  an  old  police-officer  like  myself. 

A  strain  of  music — desultory,  however,  and  spirit- 
less, like  everything  else  about  the  place  that  night 
— greeted  us  as  Mrs.  Ashley  opened  the  door  leading 
directly  into  the  large  front  hall. 

Immediately  a  scene  meant  to  be~  festive,  but 
which  was,  in  fact,  desolate,  burst  upon  us.  The 
lights,  the  flowers,  and  the  brilliant  appearance  of 
such  ladies  as  flitted  into  sight  from  the  almost 
empty  parlours,  were  all  suggestive  of  the  cheer 
suitable  to  a  great  occasion;  but,  in  spite  of  this, 
the  effect  was  altogether  melancholy,  for  the  hun- 
dreds who  should  have  graced  this  scene,  and  for 
whom  this  illumination  had  been  made  and  these 
festoons  hung,  had  been  turned  away  from  the  gates, 
and  the  few  who  felt  they  must  remain,  because  their 
hostess  showed  no  disposition  to  let  them  go,  wore 
any  but  holiday  faces,  for  all  their  forced  smiles  and 
pitiful  attempts  at  nonchalance  and  gaiety. 


120         THE  RUBY  AND  THE  CALDRON 

I  scrutinised  these  faces  carefully.  I  detected 
nothing  in  them  but  annoyance  at  a  situation  which 
certainly  was  anything  but  pleasant. 

Turning  to  Mrs.  Ashley,  I  requested  her  to  be 
kind  enough  to  point  out  her  son,  adding  that  I 
should  be  glad  to  have  a  moment's  conversation 
with  him  before  I  spoke  to  Mr.  Deane. 

"  That  will  give  Mr.  Deane  time  to  compose  him- 
self. He  is  quite  upset.  Not  even  Mrs.  Burton 
can  comfort  him.  My  son — oh,  there  is  Harri- 
son!" 

A  tall,  fine-looking  young  man  was  crossing  the 
hall.  Mrs.  Ashley  beckoned  to  him,  and  in  another 
moment  we  were  standing  together  in  one  of  the 
empty  parlours.  I  gave  him  my  name  and  told  him 
my  business.  Then  I  said: 

"  Your  mother  has  allotted  me  an  hour  in  which 
to  find  the  valuable  jewel  which  has  just  been  lost 
on  these  premises."  Here  I  smiled.  "  She  evidently 
has  great  confidence  in  my  ability.  I  must  see  that 
I  do  not  disappoint  her." 

All  this  time  I  was  examining  his  face.  It  was  not 
only  handsome,  but  expressive  of  great  candour. 
The  eyes  looked  straight  into  mine,  and,  while  show- 
ing anxiety,  betrayed  no  deeper  emotion  than  the 
occasion  naturally  called  for. 

"  Have  you  any  suggestions  to  offer?  I  under- 
stand that  you  were  on  the  ground  almost  as  soon  as 
Mr.  Deane  discovered  his  loss." 

His  eyes  changed  a  trifle,  but  did  not  swerve.  Of 
course,  he  had  been  informed  by  his  mother  of  the 


THE  RUBY  AND  THE  CALDRON    121 

suspicious  action  of  the  young  lady  who  had  been  a 
member  of  that  gentleman's  party,  and  shrank,  as 
any  one  in  his  position  would,  from  the  responsibili- 
ties entailed  by  this  knowledge. 

"  No,"  said  he.  "  We  have  done  all  we  can.  The 
next  move  must  come  from  you." 

"  I  know  of  one  that  will  settle  the  matter  at 
once,"  I  assured  him,  still  with  my  eyes  fixed  scruti- 
nisingly  on  his  face — "  a  universal  search,  not  of 
places,  but  of  persons.  But  it  is  a  harsh  meas- 
ure." 

"  A  most  disagreeable  one,"  he  emphasised,  flush- 
ing. "  Such  an  indignity  offered  to  guests  would 
never  be  forgotten  or  forgiven." 

"  True.  But  if  they  offered  to  submit  to  this 
themselves?  " 

"They?    How?" 

"  If  you,  the  son  of  the  house — their  host,  we  may 
say — should  call  them  together,  and  for  your  own 
satisfaction  empty  out  your  pockets  in  the  sight  of 
every  one,  don't  you  think  that  all  the  men,  and 
possibly  all  the  women  too  " — here  I  let  my  voice 
fall  suggestively — "would  be  glad  to  follow  suit? 
It  could  be  done  in  apparent  joke." 

He  shook  his  head  with  a  straightforward  air, 
which  set  him  high  in  my  estimation. 

"  That  would  call  for  little  but  effrontery  on  my 
part,"  said  he.  "  But  think  how  it  would  affect 
these  boys  who  came  here  for  the  sole  purpose  of 
enjoying  themselves.  I  will  not  so  much  as  men- 
tion the  ladies." 


122         THE  RUBY  AND  THE  CALDRON 

"  Yet  one  of  the  latter " 

"  I  know,"  he  quietly  acknowledged,  growing 
restless  for  the  first  time. 

I  withdrew  my  eyes  from  his  face.  I  had  learned 
what  I  wished.  Personally,  he  did  not  shrink  from 
search,  therefore  the  jewel  was  not  in  his  pockets. 
This  left  but  two  persons  for  suspicion  to  halt  be- 
tween. But  I  disclosed  nothing  of  my  thoughts;  I 
merely  asked  pardon  for  a  suggestion  that,  while 
pardonable  in  a  man  accustomed  to  handle  crime 
with  ungloved  hands,  could  not  fail  to  prove  offen- 
sive to  a  gentleman  like  himself. 

"  We  must  move  by  means  less  open,"  I  concluded. 
"  It  adds  to  our  difficulties,  but  that  cannot  be  helped. 
I  should  now  like  a  glimpse  of  Mr.  Deane." 

"  Do  you  not  wish  to  speak  to  him?  " 

"  L  should  prefer  a  sight  of  his  face  first." 

He  led  me  across  the  hall  and  pointed  through 
an  open  door.  In  the  centre  of  a  small  room  con- 
taining a  table  and  some  chairs  I  perceived  a  young 
man  sitting,  with  fallen  head  and  dejected  air, 
staring  at  vacancy.  By  his  side,  with  hand  laid  on 
his,  knelt  a  young  girl,  striving  in  this  gentle  but 
speechless  way  to  comfort  him.  It  made  a  pathetic 
picture.  I  drew  Ashley  away. 

"  I  am  disposed  to  believe  in  that  young  man," 
said  I.  "  If  he  still  has  the  jewel,  he  would  not  try 
to  carry  off  the  situation  just  this  way.  He  really 
looks  broken-hearted." 

"  Oh,  he  is  dreadfully  cut  up !  If  you  could  have 
seen  how  frantically  he  searched  for  the  stone,  and 


THE  RUBY  AND  THE  CALDRON          123 

the  depression  into  which  he  fell  when  he  realised 
that  it  was  not  to  be  found,  you  would  not  deubt 
him  for  an  instant.  What  made  you  think  he  might 
still  have  the  ruby?  " 

"  Oh,  we  police-officers  think  of  everything. 
Then  the  fact  that  he  insists  that  something  or 
some  one  touched  his  breast  on  the  driveway  strikes 
me  as  a  trifle  suspicious.  Your  mother  says  that  no 
second  person  could  have  been  there,  or  the  snow 
would  have  given  evidence  of  it." 

"Yes;  I  looked  expressly.  Of  course,  the  drive 
itself  was  full  of  hoof-marks  and  wheel-tracks,  for 
several  carriages  had  already  passed  over  it.  Then 
there  were  all  of  Deane's  footsteps,  but  no  other 
man's,  so  far  as  I  could  see." 

"  Yet  he  insists  that  he  was  touched  or  struck." 

"  Yes." 

"  With  no  one  there  to  touch  or  strike  him." 

Mr.  Ashley  was  silent. 

"  Let  us  step  out  and  take  a  view  of  the  place,"  I 
suggested.  "  I  should  prefer  doing  this  to  question- 
ing the  young  man  in  his  present  state  of  mind." 
Then,  as  we  turned  to  put  on  our  coats,  I  asked 
with  suitable  precautions:  "  Do  you  suppose  that  he 
has  the  same  secret  suspicions  as  ourselves,  and  that 
it  is  to  hide  these  he  insists  upon  the  jewel's  having 
been  taken  away  from  him  at  a  point  the  ladies  are 
known  not  to  have  approached?  " 

Young  Ashley  looked  more  startled  than  pleased. 

"  Nothing  has  been  said  to  him  of  what  Miss 
Peters  saw  Miss  Glover  do.  I  could  not  bring  my- 


i24         THE  RUBY  AND  THE  CALDRON 

self  to  mention  it.  I  have  not  even  allowed  myself 
to  believe " 

Here  a  fierce  gust,  blowing  in  from  the  door  he 
had  just  opened,  cut  short  his  words,  and  neither  of 
us  spoke  again  till  we  stood  on  the  exact  spot  in  the 
driveway  where  the  episode  we  were  endeavouring 
to  understand  had  taken  place. 

"  Oh,"  I  cried,  as  soon  as  I  could  look  about  me; 
"  the  mystery  is  explained.  Look  at  that  bush,  or 
perhaps  you  call  it  a  shrub.  If  the  wind  were 
blowing  as  freshly  as  it  is  now,  and  very  probably 
it  was,  one  of  those  slender  branches  might  easily 
be  switched  against  his  breast,  especially  if  he  stood, 
as  you  say  he  did,  close  against  this  border." 

"  Well,  I'm  a  fool.  Only  the  other  day  I  told  the 
gardener  that  these  branches  would  need  trimming 
in  the  spring,  and  yet  I  never  so  much  as  thought 
of  them  when  Mr.  Deane  spoke  of  something  strik- 
ing his  breast." 

As  we  turned  back  I  made  this  remark: 

"  With  this  explanation  of  the  one  doubtful  point 
in  his  otherwise  plausible  account,  we  can  credit  his 
story  as  being  in  the  main  true,  which,"  I  calmly 
added,  "  places  him  above  suspicion  and  narrows 
our  inquiry  down  to  one." 

We  had  moved  quickly,  and  were  now  at  the 
threshold  of  the  door  by  which  we  had  come  out. 

"  Mr.  Ashley,"  I  continued,  "  I  shall  have  to  ask 
you  to  add  to  your  former  favours  that  of  showing 
me  the  young  lady  in  whom,  from  this  moment  on, 
we  are  especially  interested.  If  you  can  manage  to 


THE  RUBY  AND  THE  CALDRON          125 

let  me  see  her  first  without  her  seeing  me,  I  shall  be 
infinitely  obliged  to  you." 

"  I  do  not  know  where  she  is.  I  shall  have  to 
search  for  her." 

"  I  will  wait  by  the  hall  door." 

In  a  few  minutes  he.  returned  to  me. 

"  Come,"  said  he,  and  led  me  into  what  I  judged 
to  be  the  library. 

With  a  gesture  towards  one  of  the  windows,  he 
backed  quickly  out,  leaving  me  to  face  the  situation 
alone.  I  was  rather  glad  of  this.  Glancing  in  the 
direction  he  had  indicated,  and  perceiving  the  figure 
of  a  young  lady  standing  with  her  back  to  me  on  the 
farther  side  of  a  flowing  lace  curtain,  I  took  a  few 
steps  toward  her,  hoping  that  the  movement  would 
cause  her  to  turn.  But  it  entirely  failed  to  produce 
this  effect,  nor  did  she  give  any  sign  that  she  noted 
the  intrusion.  This  prevented  me  from  catching  the 
glimpse  of  her  face  which  I  so  desired,  and  obliged 
me  to  confine  myself  to  a  study  of  her  dress  and 
attitude. 

The  former  was  very  elegant,  more  elegant  than 
the  appearance  of  her  two  friends  had  led  me  to 
expect.  Though  I  am  far  from  being  an  authority 
on  feminine  toilets,  I  yet  had  experience  enough  to 
know  that  such  a  gown  represented  not  only  the  best 
efforts  of  the  dressmaker's  art,  but  very  considerable 
means  on  the  part  of  the  woman  wearing  it. 

This  was  a  discovery  which  instantly  altered  the 
complexion  of  my  thoughts;  for  I  had  presupposed 
her  a  girl  of  humble  means,  willing  to  sacrifice  cer- 


126         THE  RUBY  AND  THE  CALDRON 

tain  scruples  to  obtain  a  little  extra  money.  This 
imposing  figure  might  be  that  of  a  millionaire's 
daughter;  how,  then,  could  I  associate  her,  even  in 
my  own  mind,  with  theft?  I  decided  that  I 
must  see  her  face  before  giving  answer  to  these 
doubts. 

She  did  not  seem  inclined  to  turn.  She  had  raised 
the  shade  from  before  the  wintry  panes  and  was 
engaged  in  looking  out.  Her  attitude  was  not  that 
of  one  simply  enjoying  a  moment's  respite  from  the 
dance.  It  was  rather  that  of  an  absorbed  mind 
brooding  upon  what  gave  little  or  no  pleasure;  and 
as  I  further  gazed  and  noted  the  droop  of  her  lovely 
shoulders  and  the  languor  visible  in  her  whole  bear- 
ing, I  saw  that  a  full  glimpse  of  her  features  was 
imperative.  Moving  forward,  I  came  upon  her 
suddenly. 

"Excuse  me,  Miss  Smith,"  I  boldly  exclaimed; 
then  paused,  for  she  had  turned  instinctively,  and  I 
had  seen  that  for  which  I  had  risked  this  daring 
move.  "  Your  pardon,"  I  hastily  apologised.  "  I 
mistook  you  for  another  young  lady,"  and  drew 
back  with  a  low  bow  to  let  her  pass,  for  I  saw  that 
her  mind  was  bent  on  escape. 

And  I  did  not  wonder  at  this,  for  her  eyes  were 
streaming  with  tears,  and  her  face,  which  was  doubt- 
less a  pretty  one  under  ordinary  conditions,  looked 
so  distorted  with  distracting  emotions  that  she  was 
no  fit  subject  for  any  man's  eye,  let  alone  that  of 
a  hard-hearted  officer  of  the  law  on  the  lookout 
for  the  guilty  hand  which  had  just  appropriated  * 


THE  RUBY  AND  THE  CALDRON          127 

jewel  worth  anywhere  from  eight  to  ten  thousand 
dollars. 

Yet  I  was  glad  to  see  her  weep,  for  only 
first  offenders  weep,  and  first  offenders  are  amen- 
able to  influence,  especially  if  they  have  been  led 
into  wrong  by  impulse,  and  are  weak  rather  than 
wicked. 

Anxious  to  make  no  blunder,  I  resolved,  before 
proceeding  further,  to  learn  what  I  could  of  the 
character  and  antecedents  of  the  suspected  one,  and 
this  from  the  only  source  which  offered — Mr. 
Deane's  affianced. 

This  young  lady  was  a  delicate  girl,  with  a  face 
like  a  flower.  Recognising  her  sensitive  nature,  I 
approached  her  with  the  utmost  gentleness.  Not 
seeking  to  disguise  either  the  nature  of  my  business 
or  my  reasons  for  being  in  the  house,  since  all  this 
gave  me  authority,  I  modulated  my  tone  to  suit  her 
gentle  spirit,  and,  above  all,  I  showed  the  utmost 
sympathy  for  her  lover,  whose  rights  in  the  reward 
had  been  taken  from  him  as  certainly  as  the  jewel 
had  been  taken  from  Mrs.  Burton.  In  this  way  I 
gained  her  confidence,  and  she  was  quite  ready  to 
listen  when  I  observed: 

"  There  is  a  young  lady  here  who  seems  to  be  in  a 
state  of  even  greater  trouble  than  Mr.  Deane.  Why 
is  this?  You  brought  her  here.  Is  her  sympathy 
with  Mr.  Deane  so  great  as  to  cause  her  to  weep 
over  his  loss?  " 

"  Frances?  Oh  no.  She  likes  Mr.  Deane  and 
she  likes  me,  but  not  well  enough  to  cry  over  our 


128         THE  RUBY  AND  THE  CALDRON 

misfortunes.  I  think  she  has  some  trouble  of  her 
own." 

"One  that  you  can  tell  me?" 

Her  surprise  was  manifest. 

"  Why  do  you  ask  that?  What  interest  can  a 
police-officer,  called  in,  as  I  understand,  to  recover 
a  stolen  jewel,  have  in  Frances  Glover's  personal 
difficulties?  " 

I  saw  that  I  must  make  my  position  perfectly 
plain. 

"Only  this:  She  was  seen  to  pick  up  something 
from  the  driveway,  where  no  one  else  had  suc- 
ceeded in  finding  anything." 

"She?     When?    Who  saw  her?" 

"  I  cannot  answer  all  these  questions  at  once,"  I 
said,  smiling.  "  She  was  seen  to  do  this — no  mat- 
ter by  whom — while  you  were  stepping  down  from 
the  carriage.  As  you  preceded  her,  you  naturally  did 
not  observe  this  action,  which  was  fortunate,  per- 
haps, as  you  would  scarcely  have  known  what  to 
do  or  say  about  it." 

"  Yes,  I  should,"  she  retorted  with  a  most  un- 
expected display  of  spirit.  "  I  should  have  asked 
her  what  she  had  found,  and  I  should  have  insisted 
upon  an  answer.  I  love  my  friends,  but  I  love  the 
man  I  am  to  marry  better." 

Here  her  voice  fell,  and  a  most  becoming  blush 
suffused  her  cheek. 

"  Quite  right,"  I  assented.  "  Now  will  you  an- 
swer my  former  question?  What  troubles  Miss 
Glover?  Can  you  tell  me?" 


THE  RUBY  AND  THE  CALDRON    129 

"  That  I  cannot.  I  only  know  that  she  has  been 
very  silent  ever  since  she  left  the  house.  I  thought 
her  beautiful  new  dress  would  please  her,  but  it 
does  not  seem  to.  She  has  been  unhappy  and  pre- 
occupied all  the  evening.  She  only  roused  a  bit 

when  Mr.  Deane  showed  us  the  ruby,  and  said 

Oh,  I  forgot!  " 

"  What's  that?     What  have  you  forgot?  " 

"  Your  remark  of  a  moment  ago.  I  wouldn't  add 
a  word " 

"  Pardon  me,"  I  smilingly  interrupted,  looking 
as  fatherly  as  I  could,  u  but  you  have  added  this 
word,  and  now  you  must  tell  me  what  it  means. 
You  were  going  to  speak  of  the  interest  she  showed 
in  the  extraordinary  jewel  which  Mr.  Deane  took 
from  his  pocket,  and " 

"•In  what  he  said  about  the  reward  he  expected. 
That  is,  she  looked  eagerly  at  the  ruby,  and  sighed 
when  he  acknowledged  that  he  expected  it  to  bring 
him  five  hundred  dollars  before  midnight.  But 
any  girl  of  means  no  larger  than  hers  might  do  that. 
It  would  not  be  fair  to  lay  too  much  stress  on  a 
sigh." 

"Is  not  Miss  Glover  wealthy?  She  wears  a 
very  expensive  dress,  I  observe." 

"  I  know  it,  and  I  have  wondered  a  little  at  it, 
for  her  father  is  not  called  very  well  off.  But 
perhaps  she  bought  it  with  her  own  money.  I 
know  she  has  some;  she  is  an  artist  in  burnt  wood." 

I  let  the  subject  of  Miss  Glover's  dress  drop.  I 
had  heard  enough  to  satisfy  me  that  my  first  theory 


i3o         THE  RUBY  AND  THE  CALDRON 

was  correct.  This  young  woman,  beautifully 
dressed,  and  with  a  face  from  which  the  rounded 
lines  of  early  girlhood  had  not  yet  departed,  held  in 
her  possession,  probably  at  this  very  moment,  Mrs. 
Burton's  magnificent  jewel.  But  where?  On  her 
person  or  hidden  in  some  of  her  belongings?  I 
remembered  the  cloak  in  the  closet,  and  thought  it 
wise  to  assure  myself  that  the  jewel  was  not  secreted 
in  this  garment  before  I  proceeded  to  extreme 
measures.  Mrs.  Ashley,  upon  being  consulted, 
agreed  with  me  as  to  the  desirability  of  this, 
and  presently  I  had  this  poor  girl's  cloak  in  my 
hands. 

Did  I  find  the  ruby?  No;  but  I  found  some- 
thing else  tucked  away  in  an  inner  pocket  which 
struck  me  as  bearing  quite  pointedly  upon  this  case. 
It  was  the  bill — crumpled,  soiled,  and  tear-stained — 
of  the  dress  whose  elegance  had  so  surprised  her 
friends  and  made  me  for  a  short  time  regard  her  as 
the  daughter  of  wealthy  parents.  An  enormous  bill, 
which  must  have  struck  dismay  to  the  soul  of  this 
self-supporting  girl,  who  probably  had  no  idea  of 
how  a  French  dressmaker  can  foot  up  items.  Four 
hundred  and  fifty  dollars,  and  for  one  gown !  I 
declare  I  felt  indignant  myself,  and  could  quite 
understand  why  she  heaved  that  little  sigh  when 
Mr.  Deane  spoke  of  the  five  hundred  dollars  he 
expected  from  Mrs.  Burton,  and,  later,  when,  in 
following  the  latter's  footsteps  up  the  driveway,  she 
stumbled  upon  this  same  jewel,  fallen,  as  it  were, 
from  his  pocket  into  her  very  hands,  how  she  came 


THE  RUBY  AND  THE  CALDRON    131 

to  succumb  to  the  temptation  of  endeavouring  to 
secure  this  sum  for  herself. 

That  he  would  shout  aloud  his  loss,  and  thus  draw 
the  whole  household  out  on  the  porch,  was,  naturally, 
not  anticipated  by  her.  Of  course,  when  this  oc- 
curred, the  feasibility  of  her  project  was  gone,  and  I 
only  wished  that  I  had  been  present  and  able  to  note 
her  countenance,  as,  crowded  in  with  others  on  that 
windy  porch,  she  watched  the  progress  of  the  search, 
which  every  moment  made  it  not  only  less  impossible 
for  her  to  attempt  the  restoration  upon  which  the 
reward  depended,  but  must  have  caused  her  to  feel, 
if  she  had  been  as  well  brought  up  as  all  indications 
showed,  that  it  was  a  dishonest  act  of  which  she  had 
been  guilty,  and  that,  willing  or  not,  she  must  look 
upon  herself  as  a  thief  so  long  as  she  held  the  jewel 
back  from  Mr.  Deane  or  its  rightful  owner.  But 
how  face  the  publicity  of  restoring  it  now,  after  so 
elaborate  and  painful  a  search,  in  which  even  the  son 
of  her  hostess  had  taken  part! 

That  would  be  to  proclaim  her  guilt,  and  thus 
effectually  ruin  her  in  the  eyes  of  everybody  con- 
cerned. No,  she  would  keep  the  compromising 
article  a  little  longer,  in  the  hope  of  finding  some 
opportunity  of  returning  it  without  risk  to  her  good 
name.  And  so  she  allowed  the  search  to  proceed. 

I  have  entered  thus  elaborately  into  the  supposed 
condition  of  this  girl's  mind  on  this  critical  evening 
that  you  may  understand  why  I  felt  a  certain  sym- 
pathy for  her,  which  forbade  harsh  measures.  I  was 
sure,  from  the  glimpse  I  had  caught  of  her  face,  that 


132         THE  RUBY  AND  THE  CALDRON 

she  longed  to  be  relieved  from  the  tension  she  was 
under,  and  that  she  would  gladly  rid  herself  of  this 
valuable  jewel  if  she  only  knew  how.  This  oppor- 
tunity I  proposed  to  give  her;  and  this  is  why,  on 
returning  the  bill  to  its  place,  I  assumed  such  an  air 
of  relief  on  rejoining  Mrs.  Ashley. 

She  saw,  and  drew  me  aside. 

"  You  have  not  found  it,"  she  said. 

"No,"  I  returned;  "but  I  am  positive  where 
it  is." 

"And  where  is  that?" 

"  Over  Miss  Glover's  uneasy  heart." 

Mrs.  Ashley  turned  pale. 

"  Wait,"  said  I.  "  I  have  a  scheme  for  getting  it 
back  without  making  her  shame  public.  Listen !  " 
and  I  whispered  a  few  words  in  her  ear. 

She  surveyed  me  in  amazement  for  a  moment, 
then  nodded,  and  her  face  lighted  up. 

"  You  are  certainly  earning  vour  reward,"  she 
declared;  and  summoning  her  son,  who  was  never 
far  away  from  her  side,  she  whispered  her  wishes. 
He  started,  bowed,  and  hurried  from  the  room. 

By  this  time  my  business  in  the  house  was  well 
known  to  all,  and  I  could  not  appear  in  hall  or 
parlour  without  a  great  silence  falling  upon  every 
one  present,  followed  by  a  breaking  up  of  the  only 
too  small  circle  of  unhappy  guests  into  agitated 
groups.  But  I  appeared  to  see  nothing  of  all  this 
till  the  proper  moment,  when,  turning  suddenly 
upon  them  all,  I  cried  out  cheerfully,  but  with  a  cer- 
tain deference  I  thought  would  please  them: 


THE  RUBY  AND  THE  CALDRON    133 

"  Ladies  and  gentlemen,  I  have  an  interesting  fact 
to  announce.  The  snow  which  was  taken  up  from 
the  driveway  has  been  put  to  melt  in  the  great  feed 
caldron  over  the  stable  fire.  We  expect  to  find  the 
ruby  at  the  bottom,  and  Mrs.  Ashley  invites  you 
to  be  present  at  its  recovery.  It  has  now  stopped 
snowing,  and  she  thought  you  might  enjoy  the  ex- 
citement of  watching  the  water  ladled  out." 

A  dozen  girls  bounded  forward. 

"  Oh  yes !  What  fun !  Where  are  our  cloaks — 
our  rubbers?  " 

Two  only  stood  hesitating.  One  of  these  was 
Mr.  Deane's  lady-love,  and  the  other  her  friend, 
Miss  Glover.  The  former,  perhaps,  secretly  won- 
dered. The  latter — but  I  dared  not  look  long 
enough  or  closely  enough  in  her  direction  to  judge 
rightly  of  her  emotions.  Amid  the  bustle  which 
now  ensued  I  caught  sight  of  Mr.  Deane's  face 
peering  from  an  open  doorway.  It  was  all  alive 
with  hope.  I  also  perceived  a  lady  looking  down 
from  the  second  storey,  who  I  fait  sure  was  Mrs. 
Burton  herself.  Evidently  my  confident  tone  had 
produced  more  effect  than  the  words  themselves. 
Every  one  looked  upon  the  jewel  as  already  re- 
covered, and  regarded  my  invitation  to  the  stable  as 
a  ruse  by  which  I  hoped  to  restore  universal  good 
feeling  by  giving  them  all  a  share  in  my  triumph. 

All  but  one!  Nothing  could  make  Miss  Glover 
look  otherwise  than  anxious,  restless,  and  unsettled; 
and  though  she  followed  in  the  wake  of  the  rest,  it 
was  with  hidden  face  and  lagging  step,  as  if  she 


134         THE  RUBY  AND  THE  CALDRON 

recognised  the  whole  thing  as  a  farce,  and  doubted 
her  own  power  to  go  through  it  calmly. 

"  Ah,  ha !  my  lady,"  thought  I,  "  only  be  patient 
and  you  will  see  what  I  shall  do  for  you."  And, 
indeed,  I  thought  her  eye  brightened  as  we  all  drew 
up  around  the  huge  caldron  standing  full  of  water 
over  the  stable  stove.  As  pains  had  already  been 
taken  to  put  out  the  fire  in  this  stove,  the  ladies 
were  not  afraid  of  injuring  their  dresses,  and  con- 
sequently crowded  as  close  as  their  numbers  would 
permit.  Miss  Glover  especially  stood  within  reach 
of  the  brim,  and  as  soon  as  I  noted  this,  I  gave  the 
signal  which  had  been  agreed  upon  between  Mr. 
Ashley  and  myself.  Instantly  the  electric  lights 
went  out,  leaving  the  place  in  total  darkness. 

A  scream  from  the  girls,  a  burst  of  hilarious 
laughter  from  their  escorts,  mingled  with  loud 
apologies  from  their  seemingly  mischievous  host, 
filled  up  the  interval  of  darkness  which  I  had  in- 
sisted should  not  be  too  soon  curtailed;  then  the 
lights  flared  up  as  suddenly  as  they  had  gone  out, 
and  while  the  glare  was  fresh  on  every  face,  I  stole  a 
glance  at  Miss  Glover  to  see  if  she  had  made  good 
use  of  the  opportunity  given  her  for  ridding  herself 
of  the  jewel  by  dropping  it  into  the  caldron.  If  she 
had,  both  her  troubles  and  mine  were  at  an  end; 
if  she  had  not,  then  I  need  feel  no  further  scruple 
in  approaching  her  with  the  direct  question  I  had 
hitherto  found  it  so  difficult  to  put. 

She  stood  with  both  hands  grasping  her  cloak, 
which  she  had  drawn  tightly  about  the  rich  folds  of 


THE  RUBY  AND  THE  CALDRON    135 

her  new  and  expensive  dress;  but  her  eyes  were 
fixed  straight  before  her,  with  a  soft  light  in  their 
depths  which  made  her  positively  beautiful. 

The  jewel  is  in  the  pot,  I  inwardly  decided,  and 
ordered  the  two  waiting  stablemen  to  step  forward 
with  their  ladles.  Quickly  those  ladles  went  in,  but 
before  they  could  be  lifted  out  dripping,  half  the 
ladies  had  scurried  back,  afraid  of  injury  to  their 
pretty  dresses.  But  they  soon  sidled  forward  again, 
and  watched  with  beaming  eyes  the  slow  but  sure 
emptying  of  the  great  caldron  at  whose  bottom  they 
anticipated  finding  the  lost  jewel. 

As  the  ladles  were  plunged  deeper  and  deeper, 
the  heads  drew  closer,  and  so  great  was  the  interest 
shown  that  the  busiest  lips  forgot  to  chatter,  and 
eyes  whose  only  business  up  till  now  had  been  to 
follow  with  shy  curiosity  every  motion  made  by  their 
handsome  young  host  now  settled  on  the  murky 
depths  of  the  great  pot  whose  bottom  was  almost 
in  sight. 

As  I  heard  the  ladles  strike  this  bottom,  I  in- 
stinctively withdrew  a  step  in  anticipation  of  the 
loud  hurrah  which  would  naturally  hail  the  first 
sight  of  the  lost  ruby.  Conceive,  then,  my  chagrin, 
my  bitter  and  mortified  disappointment,  when,  after 
one  look  at  the  broad  surface  of  the  now  exposed 
bottom,  the  one  shout  which  rose  was:  "  Nothing!  " 

I  was  so  thoroughly  put  out  that  I  did  not  wait  to 
hear  the  loud  complaints  which  burst  from  every  lip. 
Drawing  Mr.  Ashley  aside  (who,  by  the  way, 
seemed  as  much  affected  as  myself  by  the  turn  affairs 


136         THE  RUBY  AND  THE  CALDRON 

had  taken) ,  I  remarked  to  him  that,  after  this,  there 
was  only  one  course  left  for  me  to  take. 

"And  what  is  that?  " 

"  To  ask  Miss  Glover  to  show  me  what  she 
picked  up  from  your  driveway." 

"And  if  she  refuses?" 

"  To  take  her  quietly  with  me  to  the  station, 
where  we  have  women  who  can  make  sure  that  the 
ruby  is  not  on  her  person." 

Mr.  Ashley  made  an  involuntary  gesture  of 
strong  repugnance. 

"  Let  us  pray  that  it  will  not  come  to  that,"  he 
objected  hoarsely.  "Such  a  fine  figure  of  a  girl! 
Did  you  notice  how  bright  and  happy  she  looked 
when  the  lights  sprang  up?  I  declare  she  struck 
me  as  lovely." 

"  So  she  did  me,  and  caused  me  to  draw  some 
erroneous  conclusions.  I  shall  have  to  ask  you  to 
procure  me  an  interview  with  her  as  soon  as  we 
return  to  the  house." 

"  She  shall  meet  you  in  the  library." 

But  when,  a  few  minutes  later,  she  joined  me  in 
the  room  just  designated,  I  own  that  my  task 
became  suddenly  hateful  to  me.  She  was  not  far 
from  my  own  daughter's  age,  and,  had  it  not  been 
for  her  furtive  look  of  care,  appeared  almost  as 
blooming  and  bright.  Would  it  ever  come  to  pass 
that  a  harsh  man  of  the  law  should  feel  it  his  duty 
to  speak  to  my  Flora  as  I  must  now  speak  to  the 
young  girl  before  me?  The  thought  made  me  in- 
wardly recoil,  and  it  was  in  as  gentle  a  manner  as 


THE  RUBY  AND  THE  CALDRON    137 

possible  that  I  made  my  bow  and  began  with  the 
following  remark: 

"  I  hope  you  will  pardon  me,  Miss  Glover — I  am 
told  that  is  your  name.  I  hate  to  disturb  your 
pleasure  " — this  with  the  tears  of  alarm  and  grief 
rising  in  her  eyes — "  but  you  can  tell  me  something 
which  will  greatly  simplify  my  task,  and  possibly  put 
matters  in  such  shape  that  you  and  your  friends  can 
be  released  to  your  homes." 

"I?" 

She  stood  before  me  with  amazed  eyes,  the  colour 
rising  in  her  cheeks.  I  had  to  force  my  next  words, 
which,  out  of  consideration  for  her,  I  made  as  direct 
as  possible. 

"  Yes,  miss.  What  was  the  article  you  were  seen 
to  pick  up  from  the  driveway  soon  after  leaving 
your  carriage?  " 

She  started,  then  stumbled  backward,  tripping  in 
her  long  train. 

"  I  pick  up?  "  she  murmured.  Then  with  a  blush, 
whether  of  anger  or  pride  I  could  not  tell,  she  coldly 
answered:  "Oh,  that  was  something  of  my  own — 
something  I  had  just  dropped.  I  had  rather  not  tell 
you  what  it  was." 

I  scrutinised  her  closely.  She  met  my  eyes 
squarely,  yet  not  with  just  the  clear  light  I  should, 
remembering  Flora,  have  been  glad  to  see  there. 

"  I  think  it  would  be  better  for  you  to  be  entirely 
frank,"  said  I.  "  It  was  the  only  article  known  to 
have  been  picked  up  from  the  driveway  after  Mr. 
Deane's  loss  of  the  ruby;  and  though  we  do  not 


138         THE  RUBY  AND  THE  CALDRON 

presume  to  say  that  it  was  the  ruby,  yet  the  matter 
would  look  clearer  to  us  all  if  you  would  frankly 
state  what  this  object  was." 

Her  whole  body  seemed  to  collapse,  and  she 
looked  as  if  about  to  sink. 

"  Oh,  where  is  Minnie?  Where  is  Mr.  Deane?  " 
she  moaned,  turning  and  staring  at  the  door,  as  if 
she  hoped  they  would  fly  to  her  aid.  Then,  in  a 
burst  of  indignation  which  I  was  fain  to  believe  real, 
she  turned  on  me  with  the  cry:  "  It  was  a  bit  of 
paper  which  I  had  thrust  into  the  bosom  of  my 
gown.  It  fell  out " 

"Your  dressmaker's  bill?"  I  intimated. 

"  She  stared,  laughed  hysterically  for  a  moment, 
then  sank  upon  a  sofa  nearby,  sobbing  spasmodi- 
cally. 

"Yes,"  she  cried,  after  a  moment;  "my  dress- 
maker's bill.  You  seem  to  know  all  my  affairs." 
Then  suddenly,  and  with  a  startling  impetuosity, 
which  drew  her  to  her  feet:  "  Are  you  going  to  tell 
everybody  that?  Are  you  going  to  state  publicly 
that  Miss  Glover  brought  an  unpaid  bill  to  the 
party,  and  that  because  Mr.  Deane  was  unfortunate 
enough,  or  careless  enough,  to  drop  and  lose  the 
jewel  he  was  bringing  to  Mrs.  Burton  she  is  to  be 
looked  upon  as  a  thief,  because  she  stooped  to  pick 
up  this  bill  which  had  slipped  inadvertently  from  its 
hiding-place?  I  shall  die  if  you  do !  "  she  cried.  "  I 
shall  die  if  it  is  already  known,"  she  pursued  with 
increasing  emotion.  "  Is  it?  Is  it?  " 

Her  passion  was  so  great,  so  much  greater  than 


THE  RUBY  AND  THE  CALDRON    139 

any  likely  to  rise  in  a  breast  wholly  innocent,  that  I 
began  to  feel  very  sober. 

"  No  one  but  Mrs.  Ashley,  and  possibly  her  son, 
know  about  the  bill,"  said  I,  "  and  no  one  shall  if 
you  will  go  with  that  lady  to  her  room,  and  make 
plain  to  her,  in  the  only  way  you  can,  that  the  ex- 
tremely valuable  article  which  has  been  lost  to-night 
is  not  in  your  possession." 

She  threw  up  her  arms  with  a  scream.  "  Oh,  what 
a  horror!  I  cannot!  I  cannot!  Oh,  I  shall  die  of 
shame !  My  father !  My  mother !  "  And  she 
burst  from  the  room  like  one  distraught. 

But  in  another  moment  she  came  cringing  back. 

"  I  cannot  face  them,"  she  said.  "  They  all  be- 
lieve it;  they  will  always  believe  it  unless  I  submit! 
Oh,  why  did  I  ever  come  to  this  dreadful  place? 
Why  did  I  order  this  hateful  dress,  which  I  can 
never  pay  for,  and  which,  in  spite  of  the  misery  it 

has  caused  me,  has  failed  to  bring  me  the "  She 

did  not  continue.  She  had  caught  my  eye  and  seen 
there,  perhaps,  some  evidence  of  the  pity  I  could 
not  but  experience  for  her.  With  a  sudden  change 
of  tone  she  advanced  upon  me  with  the  appeal: 
"  Save  me  from  this  humiliation.  I  have  not  seen 
the  ruby.  I  am  as  ignorant  of  its  whereabouts  as — 
as  Mr.  Ashley  himself.  Won't  you  believe  me? 
Won't  they  be  satisfied  if  I  swear " 

I  was  really  sorry  for  her.  I  began  to  think, 
too,  that  some  dreadful  mistake  had  been  made. 
Her  manner  seemed  too  ingenuous  for  guilt.  Yet 
where  could  that  ruby  be,  if  not  with  this  young 


HO    THE  RUBY  AND  THE  CALDRON 

girl?  Certainly,  all  other  possibilities  had  been  ex- 
hausted, and  her  story  of  the  bill,  even  if  accepted, 
would  never  quite  exonerate  her  from  secret 
suspicion  while  that  elusive  jewel  remained  un- 
found. 

"  You  give  me  no  hope,"  she  moaned.  "  I  must 
go  out  before  them  all,  and  ask  to  have  it  proved 
that  I  am  no  thief.  Oh,  if  God  would  only  have 
pity 1" 

"  Or  some  one  should  succeed  in  finding 

Halloo,  what's  that?" 

A  shout  had  risen  from  the  hall  beyond. 

She  gasped,  and  we  both  plunged  forward.  Mr. 
Ashley,  still  in  his  overcoat,  stood  at  the  other  end 
of  the  hall,  and  facing  him  were  ranged  the  whole 
line  of  young  people  whom  I  had  left  scattered 
about  in  the  various  parlours.  I  thought  he  ap- 
peared to  be  in  a  peculiar  frame  of  mind;  and  when 
he  glanced  our  way,  and  saw  who  was  standing  with 
me  in  the  library  doorway,  his  voice  took  on  a  tone 
which  made  me  doubt  whether  he  was  about  to 
announce  good  news  or  bad. 

But  his  first  word  settled  that  question. 

"  Rejoice  with  me !  "  he  cried.  "  The  ruby  has 
been  found!  Do  you  want  to  see  the  culprit,  for 
there  is  a  culprit?  We  have  him  at  the  door.  Shall 
we  bring  him  in?  " 

"  Yes,  yes !  "  cried  several  voices,  among  them 
that  of  Mr.  Deane,  who  now  strode  forward  with 
beaming  eyes  and  instinctively  lifted  hand.  But 
some  of  the  ladies  looked  frightened,  and  Mr.  Ash- 


THE  RUBY  AND  THE  CALDRON    141 

ley,  noting  this,  glanced  for  encouragement  in  our 
direction. 

He  seemed  to  find  it  in  Miss  Glover's  eyes.  She 
had  quivered  and  nearly  fallen  at  that  word  found, 
but  had  drawn  herself  up  by  this  time,  and  was 
awaiting  his  further  action  in  a  fever  of  relief  and 
hope,  which,  perhaps,  no  one  but  myself  could  fully 
appreciate. 

"  A  vile  thief!  A  most  unconscionable  rascal!  " 
vociferated  Mr.  Ashley.  "  You  must  see  him, 
mother;  you  must  see  him,  ladies,  else  you  will  not 
realise  our  good  fortune.  Open  the  door  there,  and 
bring  in  the  robber!  " 

At  this  command,  uttered  in  ringing  tones,  the 
huge  leaves  of  the  great  front-door  swung  slowly 
forward,  revealing  two  sturdy  stablemen  leading  into 
view — a  huge  horse. 

The  scream  of  astonishment  which  went  up  from 
all  sides,  united  to  Mr.  Ashley's  shout  of  hilarity, 
caused  the  animal,  unused,  no  doubt,  to  drawing- 
rooms,  to  rear  to  the  length  of  his  bridle.  At  which 
Mr.  Ashley  laughed  again,  and  gaily  cried: 

"Confound  the  fellow!  Look  at  him,  mother! 
look  at  him,  ladies!  Do  you  not  see  guilt  written 
on  his  brow?  It  is  he  who  has  made  us  all  this 
trouble.  First,  he  must  needs  take  umbrage  at  the 
two  lights  with  which  we  presumed  to  illuminate  our 
porch;  then,  envying  Mrs.  Burton  her  ruby  and 
Mr.  Deane  his  reward,  seek  to  rob  them  both  by 
grinding  his  hoofs  all  over  the  snow  of  the  driveway 
till  he  came  upon  the  jewel  which  Mr.  Deane  had 


142         THE  RUBY  AND  THE  CALDRON 

dropped  from  his  pocket,  and,  taking  it  up  in  a  ball 
of  snow,  secrete  it  in  his  left  hind  shoe — where  it 
might  be  yet,  if  Mr.  Spencer  " — here  he  bowed  to  a 
strange  gentleman  who  at  that  moment  entered — 
"  had  not  come  himself  for  his  daughters,  and,  going 
first  to  the  stable,  found  his  horse  so  restless  and 
seemingly  lame — there,  boys,  you  may  take  the 
wretch  away  now  and  harness  him,  but  first  hold  up 
that  guilty  left  hind  hoof  for  the  ladies  to  see — that 
he  stooped  to  examine  him,  and  so  came  upon  this." 

Here  the  young  gentleman  brought  forward  his 
hand.  In  it  was  a  nondescript  little  wad,  well 
soaked  and  shapeless;  but  once  he  had  untied  the 
kid,  such  a  ray  of  rosy  light  burst  from  his  out- 
stretched palm  that  I  doubt  if  a  single  woman  there 
noted  the  clatter  of  the  retiring  beast  or  the  heavy 
clang  made  by  the  two  front-doors  as  they  shut  upon 
the  robber.  Eyes  and  tongues  were  too  busy,  and 
Mr.  Ashley,  realising,  probably,  that  the  interest  of 
all  present  would  remain,  for  a  few  minutes  at  least, 
with  this  marvellous  jewel  so  astonishingly  re- 
covered, laid  it,  with  many  expressions  of  thankful- 
ness, in  Mrs.  Burton's  now  eagerly  'outstretched 
palm,  and  advancing  towards  us,  greeted  Miss 
Glover  with  a  smile. 

"  Congratulate  me,"  he  prayed.  "  All  our  trou- 
bles are  over.  Oh,  what  now?  " 

The  poor  young  thing,  in  trying  to  smile,  had 
turned  as  white  as  a  sheet.  Before  either  of  us 
could  interpose  an  arm,  she  had  slipped  to  the  floor 
in  a  dead  faint.  With  a  murmur  of  pity  and 


THE  RUBY  AND  THE  CALDRON    143 

possibly  of  inward  contrition,  he  stooped  over  her, 
and  together  we  carried  her  into  the  library,  where    * 
I  left  her  in  his  care,  confident,  from  certain  indica- 
tions, that  my  presence  would  not  be  greatly  missed 
by  either  of  them. 

Whatever  hope  I  may  have  had  of  reaping  the 
reward  offered  by  Mrs.  Ashley  was  now  lost,  but  in 
the  satisfaction  I  experienced  at  finding  this  young 
girl  as  innocent  as  my  Flora,  I  did  not  greatly  care. 

Well,  it  all  ended  even  more  happily  than  may 
here  appear.  The  horse  not  putting  in  his  claim  to 
the  reward,  and  Mr.  Spencer  repudiating  all  right  to 
it,  it  was  paid  in  full  to  Mr.  Deane,  who,  accom- 
panied by  his  two  ladies,  went  home  in  as  buoyant  a 
state  of  mind  as  was  possible  to  him  after  the  great 
anxieties  of  the  preceding  two  hours.  I  was  told 
that  Mr.  Ashley  declined  to  close  the  carriage  door 
upon  them  till  the  whole  three  had  promised  to  come 
again  the  following  night. 

Anxious  to  make  such  amends  as  I  personally 
could  for  my  share  in  the  mortification  to  which  Miss 
Glover  had  been  subjected,  I  visited  her  in  the  morn- 
ing, with  the  intention  of  offering  a  suggestion  or  two 
in  regard  to  that  little  bill.  But  she  met  my  first 
advance  with  a  radiant  smile  and  the  glad  exclama- 
tion: 

"  Oh,  I  have  settled  all  that!  I  have  just  come 
from  Madame  Dupre's.  I  told  her  that  I  had  never 
imagined  the  dress  could  possibly  cost  more  than  a 
hundred  dollars,  and  I  offered  her  that  sum  if  she 
would  take  the  garment  back.  And  she  did,  she 


144         THE  RUBY  AND  THE  CALDRON 

did,  and  I  shall  never  have  to  wear  that  dreadful 
satin  again!  " 

I  made  a  note  of  this  dressmaker's  name. 
She  and  I  may  have  a  bone  to  pick  some  day. 
But  I  said  nothing  to  Miss  Glover.  I  merely  ex- 
claimed: 

"  And  to-night?  " 

"  Oh,  I  have  an  old  spotted  muslin  which,  with 
a  few  natural  flowers,  will  make  me  look  festive 
enough.  One  does  not  need  fine  clothes  when  one 
is — happy." 

The  dreamy  far-off  smile  with  which  she  finished 
the  sentence  was  more  eloquent  than  words,  and  I 
was  not  surprised  when  some  time  later  I  read  of  her 
engagement  to  Mr.  Ashley. 

But  it  was  not  till  she  could  sign  herself  with  his 
name  that  she  told  me  just  what  underlay  the  misery 
of  that  night.  She  had  met  Harrison  Ashley  more 
than  once  before,  and,  though  she  did  not  say  so, 
had  evidently  conceived  an  admiration  for  him 
which  made  her  especially  desirous  of  attracting  and 
pleasing  him.  Not  understanding  the  world  very 
well,  certainly  having  very  little  knowledge  of  the 
tastes  and  feelings  of  wealthy  people,  she  conceived 
that  the  more  brilliantly  she  was  attired  the  more 
likely  she  would  be  to  please  this  rich  young  man. 
So  in  a  moment  of  weakness  she  decided  to  devote 
all  her  small  savings  (a  hundred  dollars,  as  we 
know)  to  buying  a  gown  such  as  she  felt  she  could 
appear  in  at  his  house  without  shame. 

It  came  home — as  dresses   from   French  dress- 


THE  RUBY  AND  THE  CALDRON          145 

makers  are  very  apt  to  do — just  in  time  for  her 
to  put  it  on  for  the  party.  The  bill  came  with  it, 
and  when  she  saw  the  amount — it  was  all  itemised, 
and  she  could  find  no  fault  with  anything  but  the 
summing  up — she  was  so  overwhelmed  that  she 
nearly  fainted.  But  she  could  not  give  up  her  ball; 
so  she  dressed  herself,  and,  being  urged  all  the  time 
to  hurry,  hardly  stopped  to  give  one  look  at  the  new 
and  splendid  gown  which  had  cost  so  much.  The 
bill — the  incredible,  the  enormous  bill — was  all  she 
could  think  of,  and  the  figures,  which  represented 
nearly  her  whole  year's  earnings,  danced  constantly 
before  her  eyes.  She  could  not  possibly  pay  it, 
nor  could  she  ask  her  father  to  do  so.  She  was 
ruined.  But  the  ball  and  Mr.  Ashley — these  still 
awaited  her;  so  presently  she  worked  herself  up  to 
some  anticipation  of  enjoyment,  and,  having  thrown 
on  her  cloak,  was  turning  down  her  light  prepara- 
tory to  departure,  when  her  eye  fell  on  the  bill  lying 
open  on  her  dresser. 

It  would  never  do  to  leave  it  there — never  do 
to  leave  it  anywhere  in  her  room.  There  were  pry- 
ing eyes  in  the  house,  and  she  was  as  ashamed  of 
that  bill  as  she  might  have  been  of  a  contemplated 
theft.  So  she  tucked  it  into  her  corsage,  and  went 
down  to  join  her  friends  in  the  carriage. 

The  rest  we  know,  with  the  exception  of  one  small 
detail  which  turned  to  gall  whatever  enjoyment  she 
was  able  to  get  out  of  the  evening.  There  was  a 
young  girl  present,  dressed  in  a  simple  muslin  gown. 
While  looking  at  it,  and  inwardly  contrasting  it 


146         THE  RUBY  AND  THE  CALDRON 

with  her  own  splendour,  Mr.  Ashley  passed  by  with 
another  gentleman,  and  she  heard  him  say: 

"  How  much  better  young  girls  look  in  simple 
white  than  in  the  elaborate  silks  suited  only  to  their 
mothers !  " 

Thoughtless  words — possibly  forgotten  as  soon  as 
uttered — they  sharply  pierced  this  already  sufficiently 
stricken  and  uneasy  breast,  and  were  the  cause  of 
the  tears  which  had  aroused  my  suspicion  when  I 
came  upon  her  in  the  library,  standing  with  her  face 
to  the  night. 

But  who  can  say  whether,  if  the  evening  had 
been  devoid  of  these  occurrences,  and  no  emotions 
of  contrition  and  pity  had  been  awakened  in  her 
behalf  in  the  breast  of  her  chivalrous  host,  she  would 
ever  have  become  Mrs.  Ashley? 


THE  LITTLE  STEEL  COILS 


"  A  LADY  to  see  you,  sir." 

I  looked  up  and  was  at  once  impressed  by  the 
grace  and  beauty  of  the  person  thus  introduced  to 
me. 

"Is  there  anything  I  can  do  to  serve  you?"  I 
asked,  rising. 

She  cast  me  a  childlike  look  full  of  trust  and  can- 
dour as  she  seated  herself  in  the  chair  I  had  pointed 
out. 

"  I  believe  so;  I  hope  so,"  she  earnestly  assured 
me.  "  I — I  am  in  great  trouble.  I  have  just  lost 
my  husband — but  it  is  not  that.  It  is  the  slip  of 
paper  I  found  on  my  dresser,  and  which — 
which " 

She  was  trembling  violently  and  her  words  were 
fast  becoming  incoherent.  I  calmed  her  and  asked 
her  to  relate  her  story  just  as  it  had  happened;  and 
after  a  few  minutes  of  silent  struggle  she  succeeded 
in  collecting  herself  sufficiently  to  respond  with  some 
degree  of  connection  and  self-possession. 

"  I  have  been  married  six  months.  My  name  is 
Lucy  Holmes.  For  the  last  few  weeks  my  husband 
and  I  have  been  living  in  an  apartment  house  on 
Fifty-ninth  Street,  and,  as  we  had  not  a  care  in  the 
world,  we  were  very  happy  till  Mr.  Holmes  was 
called  away  on  business  to  Philadelphia.  This  was 


150  THE  LITTLE  STEEL  COILS 

two  weeks  ago.  Five  days  later  I  received  an  affec^ 
tionate  letter  from  him,  in  which  he  promised  to 
come  back  the  next  day;  and  the  news  so  delighted 
me  that  I  accepted  an  invitation  to  the  theatre  from 
some  intimate  friends  of  ours.  The  next  morning  I 
naturally  felt  fatigued  and  rose  late;  but  I  was  very 
cheerful,  for  I  expected  my  husband  at  noon.  And 
now  comes  the  perplexing  mystery.  In  the  course  of 
dressing  myself  I  stepped  to  my  bureau,  and  seeing  a 
small  newspaper  slip  attached  to  the  cushion  by  a 
pin,  I  drew  it  off  and  read  it.  It  was  a  death  notice, 
and  my  hair  rose  and  my  limbs  failed  me  as  I  took 
in  its  fatal  and  incredible  words. 

"  '  Died  this  day  at  the  Colonnade,  James  For- 
sythe  De  Witt  Holmes.  New  York  papers  please 
copy.' 

"  James  Forsythe  De  Witt  Holmes  was  my  hus- 
band, and  his  last  letter,  which  was  at  that  very  mo- 
ment lying  beside  the  cushion,  had  been  dated  from  the 
Colonnade.  Was  I  dreaming  or  under  the  spell  of 
some  frightful  hallucination  which  led  me  to  mis- 
read the  name  on  the  slip  of  paper  before  me?  I 
could  not  determine.  My  head,  throat,  and  chest 
seemed  bound  about  with  iron,  so  that  I  could  neither 
speak  nor  breathe  with  freedom,  and,  suffering  thus, 
I  stood  staring  at  this  demoniacal  bit  of  paper  which 
in  an  instant  had  brought  the  shadow  of  death  upon 
my  happy  life.  Nor  was  I  at  all  relieved  when  a 
little  later  I  flew  with  the  notice  into  a  neighbour's 
apartment,  and  praying  her  to  read  it  to  me,  found 
that  my  eyes  had  not  deceived  me  and  that  the  name 


THE  LITTLE  STEEL  COILS  151 

was   indeed  my  husband's   and   the  notice  one  of 
death. 

"  Not  from  my  own  mind  but  from  hers  came  the' 
first  suggestion  of  comfort. 

'  It  cannot  be  your  husband  who  is  meant,'  said 
she ;  '  but  some  one  of  the  same  name.  Your  hus- 
band wrote  to  you  yesterday,  and  this  person  must 
have  been  dead  at  least  two  days  for  the  printed 
notice  of  his  decease  to  have  reached  New  York. 
Some  one  has  remarked  the  striking  similarity  of 
names,  and  wishing  to  startle  you,  cut  the  slip  out 
and  pinned  it  on  your  cushion.' 

"  I  certainly  knew  of  no  one  inconsiderate  enough 
to  do  this,  but  the  explanation  was  so  plausible,  I  at 
once  embraced  it  and  sobbed  aloud  in  my  relief.  But 
in  the  midst  of  my  rejoicing  I  heard  the  bell  ring  in 
my  apartment,  and,  running  thither,  encountered  a 
telegraph  boy  holding  in  his  outstretched  hand  the 
yellow  envelope  which  so  often  bespeaks  death  or 
disaster.  The  sight  took  my  breath  away.  Summon- 
ing my  maid,  whom  I  saw  hastening  toward  me  from 
an  inner  room,  I  begged  her  to  open  the  telegram  for 
me.  Sir,  I  saw  in  her  face,  before  she  had  read  the 
first  line,  a  confirmation  of  my  very  worst  fears. 
My  husband  was " 

The  young  widow,  choked  with  her  emotions, 
paused,  recovered  herself  for  the  second  time,  and 
then  went  on. 

"  I  had  better  show  you  the  telegram." 

Taking  it  from  her  pocketbook,  she  held  it  toward 


152  THE  LITTLE  STEEL  COILS 

me.  I  read  it  at  a  glance.  It  was  short,  simple,  and 
direct : 

"  Come  at  once.  Your  husband  found  dead  in  his 
room  this  morning.  Doctors  say  heart  disease. 
Please  telegraph." 

"  You  see  it  says  this  morning,"  she  explained, 
placing  her  delicate  finger  on  the  word  she  so  eagerly 
quoted.  "  That  means  a  week  ago  Wednesday,  the 
same  day  on  which  the  printed  slip  recording  his 
death  was  found  on  my  cushion.  Do  you  not  see 
something  very  strange  in  this?  " 

I  did;  but,  before  I  ventured  to  express  myself  on 
this  subject,  I  desired  her  to  tell  me  what  she  had 
learned  in  her  visit  to  Philadelphia. 

Her  answer  was  simple  and  straightforward. 

"  But  little  more  than  you  find  in  this  telegram. 
He  died  in  his  room.  He  was  found  lying  on  the 
floor  near  the  bell-button,  which  he  had  evidently 
risen  to  touch.  One  hand  was  clenched  on  his  chest, 
but  his  face  wore  a  peaceful  look,  as  if  death  had 
come  too  suddenly  to  cause  him  much  suffering.  His 
bed  was  undisturbed;  he  had  died  before  retiring, 
possibly  in  the  act  of  packing  his  trunk,  for  it  was 
found  nearly  ready  for  the  expressman.  Indeed, 
there  was  every  evidence  of  his  intention  to  leave  on 
an  early  morning  train.  He  had  even  desired  to  be 
awakened  at  six  o'clock;  and  it  was  his  failure  to  re- 
spond to  the  summons  of  the  bellboy  which  led  to  so 
early  a  discovery  of  his  death.  He  had  never  com- 
plained of  any  distress  in  breathing,  and  we  had 
always  considered  him  a  perfectly  healthy  man ;  but 


THE  LITTLE  STEEL  COILS  153 

there  was  no  reason  for  assigning  any  other  cause 
than  heart  failure  to  his  sudden  death,  and  so  the 
burial  certificate  was  made  out  to  that  effect,  and  I 
was  allowed  to  bring  him  home  and  bury  him  in  our 
vault  at  Woodlawn.  But " — and  here  her  earnest- 
ness dried  up  the  tears  which  had  been  flowing  freely 
during  this  recital  of  her  husband's  lonely  death  and 
sad  burial — "  do  you  not  think  an  investigation 
should  be  made  into  a  death  preceded  by  a  false 
obituary  notice?  For  I  found  when  I  was  in  Phila- 
delphia that  no  paragraph  such  as  I  had  found 
pinned  to  my  cushion  had  been  inserted  in  any  paper 
there,  nor  had  any  other  man  of  the  same  name 
ever  registered  at  the  Colonnade,  much  less  died 
there." 

"  Have  you  this  notice  with  you?  "  I  asked. 

She  immediately  produced  it,  and  while  I  was 
glancing  it  over  remarked: 

"  Some  persons  would  give  a  superstitious  expla- 
nation to  the  whole  matter;  think  I  had  received  a 
supernatural  warning  and  been  satisfied  with  what 
they  would  call  a  spiritual  manifestation.  But  I  have 
not  a  bit  of  such  folly  in  my  composition.  Living 
hands  set  up  the  type  and  printed  the  words  which 
gave  me  so  deathly  a  shock;  and  hands,  with  a  real 
purpose  in  them,  cut  it  from  the  paper  and  pinned  it 
to  my  cushion  for  me  to  see  when  I  woke  on  that 
fatal  morning.  But  whose  hands?  That  is  what  I 
want  you  to  discover." 

I  had  caught  the  fever  of  her  suspicions  long  be- 
fore this  and  now  felt  justified  in  showing  my  interest. 


154  THE  LITTLE  STEEL  COILS 

"  First,  let  me  ask,"  said  I,  "  who  has  access  to 
your  rooms  besides  your  maid?  " 

"  No  one;  absolutely  no  one." 

"And  what  of  her?" 

"  She  is  innocence  herself.  She  is  no  common 
housemaid,  but  a  girl  my  mother  brought  up,  who 
for  love  of  me  consents  to  do  such  work  in  the  house- 
hold as  my  simple  needs  require." 

"  I  should  like  to  see  her." 

"  There  is  no  objection  to  your  doing  so;  but  you 
will  gain  nothing  by  it.  I  have  already  talked  the  sub- 
ject over  with  her  a  dozen  times  and  she  is  as  much 
puzzled  by  it  as  I  am  myself.  She  says  she  cannot 
see  how  any  one  could  have  found  an  entrance  to 
my  room  during  my  sleep,  as  the  doors  were  all 
locked.  Yet,  as  she  very  naturally  observes,  some 
one  must  have  done  so,  for  she  was  in  my  bedroom 
herself  just  before  I  returned  from  the  theatre,  and 
can  swear,  if  necessary,  that  no  such  slip  of  paper 
was  to  be  seen  on  my  cushion  at  that  time,  for  her 
duties  led  her  directly  to  my  bureau  and  kept  her 
there  for  full  five  minutes." 

"  And  you  believed  her?  "  I  suggested. 

"  Implicitly." 

"  In  what  direction,  then,  do  your  suspicions 
turn?  " 

"  Alas !  in  no  direction.  That  is  the  trouble.  I 
don't  know  whom  to  mistrust.  It  was  because  I  was 
told  that  you  had  the  credit  of  seeing  light  where 
others  can  see  nothing  but  darkness  that  I  have 
sought  your  aid  in  this  emergency.  For  the  uncer- 


THE  LITTLE  STEEL  COILS  155 

tainty  surrounding  this  matter  is  killing  me  and  will 
make  my  sorrow  quite  unendurable  if  I  cannot  obtain 
relief  from  it." 

"  I  do  not  wonder,"  I  began,  struck  by  the  note  of 
truth  in  her  tones.  "  And  I  shall  certainly  do  what  I 
can  for  you.  But  before  we  go  any  further,  let  us 
examine  this  scrap  of  newspaper  and  see  what  we 
can  make  out  of  it." 

I  had  already  noted  two  or  three  points  in  con- 
nection with  it  to  which  I  now  proceeded  to  direct 
her  attention. 

"  Have  you  compared  this  notice,"  I  pursued, 
"  with  such  others  as  you  find  every  day  in  the 
papers?  " 

"  No,"  was  her  eager  answer.  "  Is  it  not  like 
them  all " 

"  Read,"  was  my  quiet  interruption.  "  '  On  this 
day  at  the  Colonnade  ' — on  what  day?  The  date  is 
usually  given  in  all  the  bona  fide  notices  I  have  seen." 

"  Is  it?  "  she  asked,  her  eyes,  moist  with  unshed 
tears,  opening  widely  in  her  astonishment. 

"  Look  in  the  papers  on  your  return  home  and 
see.  Then  the  print.  Observe  that  the  type  is 
identical  on  both  sides  of  this  make-believe  clipping, 
while  in  fact  there  is  always  a  perceptible  difference 
between  that  used  in  the  obituary  column  and  that 
to  be  found  in  the  columns  devoted  to  other  matter. 
Notice  also,"  I  continued,  holding  up  the  scrap  of 
paper  between  her  and  the  light,  "  that  the  align- 
ment on  one  side  is  not  exactly  parallel  with  that 
on  the  other;  a  discrepancy  which  would  not  exist  if 


1 56  THE  LITTLE  STEEL  COILS 

both  sides  had  been  printed  on  a  newspaper  press. 
These  facts  lead  me  to  conclude,  first,  that  the  effort 
to  match  the  type  exactly  was  the  mistake  of  a  man 
who  tried  to  do  too  much;  and,  secondly,  that  one 
of  the  sides  at  least,  presumably  that  containing  the 
obituary  notice,  was  printed  on  a  hand-press,  on  the 
blank  side  of  a  piece  of  galley  proof  picked  up  in 
some  newspaper  office." 

"  Let  me  see."  And  stretching  out  her  hand  with, 
the  utmost  eagerness,  she  took  the  slip  and  turned 
it  over.  Instantly  a  change  took  place  in  her  counte- 
nance. She  sank  back  in  her  seat  and  a  blush  of 
manifest  confusion  suffused  her  cheeks.  "  Oh!  "  she 
exclaimed;  "  what  will  you  think  of  me!  I  brought 
this  scrap  of  print  into  the  house  myself,  and  it  was 
/  who  pinned  it  on  the  cushion  with  my  own  hands ! 
I  remember  it  now.  The  sight  of  those  words  recalls 
the  whole  occurrence." 

"  Then  there  is  one  mystery  less  for  us  to  solve,"  I 
remarked,  somewhat  drily. 

"  Do  you  think  so?  "  she  protested,  with  a  depreca- 
tory look.  "  For  me  the  mystery  deepens,  and  be- 
comes every  minute  more  serious.  It  is  true  that  I 
brought  this  scrap  of  newspaper  into  the  house,  and 
that  it  had,  then  as  now,  the  notice  of  my  husband's 
death  upon  it,  but  the  time  of  my  bringing  it  in  was 
Tuesday  night,  and  he  was  not  found  dead  till 
Wednesday  morning." 

"  A  discrepancy  worth  noting,"  I  remarked. 

"  Involving  a  mystery  of  some  importance,"  she 
concluded. 


THE  LITTLE  STEEL  COILS  15? 

I  agreed  to  that. 

"  And  since  we  have  discovered  how  the  slip  came 
into  your  room,  we  can  now  proceed  to  the  clearing 
up  of  this  mystery,"  I  observed.  "  You  can,  of 
course,  inform  me  where  you  procured  this  clipping 
which  you  say  you  brought  into  the  house?  " 

"  Yes.  You  may  think  it  strange,  but  when  I 
alighted  from  the  carriage  that  night,  a  man  on  the 
sidewalk  put  this  tiny  scrap  of  paper  into  my  hand. 
It  was  done  so  mechanically  that  it  made  no  more 
impression  on  my  mind  than  the  thrusting  of  an  ad- 
vertisement upon  me.  Indeed,  I  supposed  it  was  an 
advertisement,  and  I  only  wonder  that  I  retained  it  in 
my  hand  at  all.  But  that  I  did  do  so,  and  that,  in  a 
moment  of  abstraction,  I  went  so  far  as  to  pin  it  to 
my  cushion,  is  evident  from  the  fact  that  a  vague 
memory  remains  in  my  mind  of  having  read  this 
recipe  which  you  see  printed  on  the  reverse  side  of 
the  paper." 

"  It  was  the  recipe,  then,  and  not  the  obituary 
notice  which  attracted  your  attention  the  night  be- 
fore?" 

"  Probably,  but  in  pinning  it  to  the  cushion,  it 
was  the  obituary  notice  that  chanced  to  come  upper- 
most. Oh,  why  should  I  not  have  remembered  this 
till  now !  Can  you  understand  my  forgetting  a  mat- 
ter of  so  much  importance?  " 

"  Yes,"  I  allowed,  after  a  momentary  considera- 
tion of  her  ingenuous  countenance.  "  The  words  you 
read  in  the  morning  were  so  startling  that  they  dis- 


1 58  THE  LITTLE  STEEL  COILS 

connected  themselves  from  those  you  had  carelessly 
glanced  at  the  night  before." 

"  That  is  it,"  she  replied;  "  and  since  then  I  have 
had  eyes  for  the  one  side  only.  How  could  I  think 
of  the  other?  But  who  could  have  printed  this  thing 
and  who  was  the  man  who  put  it  into  my  hand  ?  He 

looked  like  a  beggar,  but Oh!  "  she  suddenly 

exclaimed,  her  cheeks  flushing  scarlet  and  her  eyes 
flashing  with  a  feverish,  almost  alarming  glitter. 

"  What  is  it  now?  "  I  asked.  "  Another  recollec- 
tion? " 

"  Yes."  She  spoke  so  low  I  could  hardly  ftear 
her.  "  He  coughed  and " 

"And  what?"  I  encouragingly  suggested,  seeing 
that  she  was  under  some  new  and  overwhelming 
emotion. 

"  That  cough  had  a  familiar  sound,  now  that  I 

think  of  it.  It  was  like  that  of  a  friend  wrho 

But  no,  no;  I  will  not  wrong  him  by  any  false  sur- 
mises. He  would  stoop  to  much,  but  not  to  that; 
yet— 

The  flush  on  her  cheeks  had  died  away,  but  the  two 
vivid  spots  which  remained  showed  the  depth  of 
her  excitement. 

"  Do  you  think,"  she  suddenly  asked,  "  that  a  man 
out  of  revenge  might  plan  to  frighten  me  by  a  false 
notice  of  my  husband's  death,  and  that  God  to  punish 
him,  made  the  notice  a  prophecy?  " 

"  I  think  a  man  influenced  by  the  spirit  of  revenge 
might  do  almost  anything,"  I  answered,  purposely 
ignoring  the  latter  part  of  her  question. 


THE  LITTLE  STEEL  COILS  159 

"  But  I  always  considered  him  a  good  man.  At 
least  I  never  looked  upon  him  as  a  wicked  one. 
Every  other  beggar  we  meet  has  a  cough;  and  yet," 
she  added  after  a  moment's  pause,  "  if  it  was  not  he 
who  gave  me  this  mortal  shock,  who  was  it?  He  is 
the  only  person  in  the  world  I  ever  wronged." 

"  Had  you  not  better  tell  me  his  name?  "  I  sug- 
gested. 

"  No,  I  am  in  too  great  doubt.  I  should  hate 
to  do  him  a  second  injury." 

"  You  cannot  injure  him  if  he  is  innocent.  My 
methods  are  very  safe." 

"  If  I  could  forget  his  cough !  but  it  had  that  pecu- 
liar catch  in  it  that  I  remembered  so  well  in  the 
cough  of  John  Graham.  I  did  not  pay  any  especial 
heed  to  it  at  the  time.  Old  days  and  old  troubles 
were  far  enough  from  my  thoughts;  but  now  that  my 
suspicions  are  raised,  that  low,  choking  sound  comes 
back  to  me  in  a  strangely  persistent  way,  and  I  seem 
to  see  a  well-remembered  form  in  the  stooping  figure 
of  this  beggar.  Oh,  I  hope  the  good  God  will  for- 
give me  if  I  attribute  to  this  disappointed  man  a 
wickedness  he  never  committed." 

"Who  is  John  Graham?"  I  urged,  "and  what 
was  the  nature  of  the  wrong  you  did  him?  " 

She  rose,  cast  me  one  appealing  glance,  and  per- 
ceiving that  I  meant  to  have  her  whole  story,  turned 
towards  the  fire  and  stood  warming  her  feet  before 
the  hearth,  with  her  face  turned  away  from  my  gaze. 

"  I  was  once  engaged  to  marry  him,"  she  began. 
"  Not  because  I  loved  him,  but  because  we  were  very 


160  THE  LITTLE  STEEL  COILS 

poor — I  mean  my  mother  and  myself — and  he  had  a 
home  and  seemed  both  good  and  generous.  The  day 
came  when  we  were  to  be  married — this  was  in  the 
West,  way  out  in  Kansas — and  I  was  even  dressed  for 
the  wedding,  when  a  letter  came  from  my  uncle  here, 
a  rich  uncle,  very  rich,  who  had  never  had  anything 
to  do  with  my  mother  since  her  marriage,  and  in  it 
he  promised  me  fortune  and  everything  else  desirable 
in  life  if  I  would  come  to  him,  unencumbered  by  any 
foolish  ties.  Think  of  it !  And  I  within  half  an  hour 
of  marriage  with  a  man  I  had  never  loved  and  now 
suddenly  hated.  The  temptation  was  overwhelming, 
and,  heartless  as  my  conduct  may  appear  to  you,  I 
succumbed  to  it.  Telling  my  lover  that  I  had 
changed  my  mind,  I  dismissed  the  minister  when  he 
came,  and  announced  my  intention  of  proceeding 
East  as  soon  as  possible.  Mr.  Graham  was  simply 
paralysed  by  his  disappointment,  and  during  the  few 
days  which  intervened  before  my  departure,  I  was 
haunted  by  his  face,  which  was  like  that  of  a  man 
who  had  died  from  some  overwhelming  shock.  But 
when  I  was  once  free  of  the  town,  especially  after  I 
arrived  in  New  York,  I  forgot  alike  his  misery  and 
himself.  Everything  I  saw  was  so  beautiful!  Life 
was  so  full  of  charm,  and  my  uncle  so  delighted 
with  me  and  everything  I  did!  Then  there  was 

James  Holmes,  and  after  I  had  seen  him But 

I  cannot  talk  of  that.  We  loved  each  other,  and 
under  the  surprise  of  this  new  delight  how  could  I  be 
expected  to  remember  the  man  I  had  left  behind  me 
in  that  barren  region  in  which  I  had  spent  my  youth? 


THE  LITTLE  STEEL  COILS  161 

But  he  did  not  forget  the  misery  I  had  caused  him. 
He  followed  me  to  New  York;  and  on  the  morning 
I  was  married  found  his  way  into  the  house,  and  mix- 
ing with  the  wedding  guests,  suddenly  appeared  be- 
fore me  just  as  I  was  receiving  the  congratulations  of 
my  friends.  At  sight  of  him  I  experienced  all  the 
terror  he  had  calculated  upon  causing,  but  remember- 
ing our  old  relations  and  my  new  position,  I  assumed 
an  air  of  apparent  haughtiness.  This  irritated  John 
Graham.  Flushing  with  anger,  and  ignoring  my 
imploring  look,  he  cried  peremptorily,  '  Present  me 
to  your  husband !  *  and  I  felt  forced  to  present  him. 
But  his  name  produced  no  effect  upon  Mr.  Holmes. 
I  had  never  told  him  of  my  early  experience  with  this 
man,  and  John  Graham,  perceiving  this,  cast  me  a 
bitter  glance  of  disdain  and  passed  on,  muttering 
between  his  teeth,  '  False  to  me  and  false  to  him ! 
Your  punishment  be  upon  you !  '  and  I  felt  as  if  I 
had  been  cursed." 

She  stopped  here,  moved  by  emotions  readily  to 
be  understood.  Then  with  quick  impetuosity  she 
caught  up  the  thread  of  her  story  and  went 
on. 

"  That  was  six  months  ago;  and  again  I  forgot. 
My  mother  died  and  my  husband  soon  absorbed  my 
every  thought.  How  could  I  dream  that  this  man, 
who  was  little  more  than  a  memory  to  me  and 
scarcely  that,  was  secretly  planning  mischief  against 
me?  Yet  this  scrap  about  which  we  have  talked  so 
much  may  have  been  the  work  of  his  hands;  and  even 
my  husband's  death " 


i62  THE  LITTLE  STEEL  COILS 

She  did  not  finish,  but  her  face,  which  was  turned 
towards  me,  spoke  volumes. 

"  Your  husband's  death  shall  be  inquired  into,"  I 
assured  her.  And  she,  exhausted  by  the  excitement 
of  her  discoveries,  asked  that  she  might  be  excused 
from  further  discussion  of  the  subject  at  that  time. 

As  I  had  no  wish,  myself,  to  enter  any  more  fully 
into  the  matter  just  then,  I  readily  acceded  to  her 
request,  and  the  pretty  widow  left  me. 


II 

Obviously  the  first  fact  to  be  settled  was  whether 
Mr.  Holmes  had  died  from  purely  natural  causes. 
I  accordingly  busied  myself  the  next  few  days  with 
the  question,  and  was  fortunate  enough  to  so  interest 
the  proper  authorities  that  an  order  was  issued  for 
the  exhumation  and  examination  of  the  body. 

The  result  was  disappointing.  No  traces  of  poi- 
son were  to  be  found  in  the  stomach  nor  was  there 
to  be  seen  on  the  body  any  mark  of  violence  with  the 
exception  of  a  minute  prick  upon  one  of  his  thumbs. 

This  speck  was  so  small  that  it  escaped  every  eye 
but  my  own. 

The  authorities  assuring  the  widow  that  the  doc- 
tor's certificate  given  her  in  Philadelphia  was  correct, 
the  body  was  again  interred.  But  I  was  not  satis- 
fied; and  confident  that  this  death  had  not  been  a 
natural  one,  I  entered  upon  one  of  those  secret  and 
prolonged  investigations  which  for  so  many  years 


THE  LITTLE  STEEL  COILS  163 

have  constituted  the  pleasure  of  my  life.  First,  I 
visited  the  Colonnade  in  Philadelphia,  and  being 
allowed  to  see  the  room  in  which  Mr.  Holmes  died, 
went  through  it  carefully.  As  it  had  not  been  used 
since  that  time  I  had  some  hopes  of  coming  upon  a 
clue. 

But  it  was  a  vain  hope,  and  the  only  result  of  my 
journey  to  this  place  was  the  assurance  I  received 
that  the  gentleman  had  spent  the  entire  evening  pre- 
ceding his  death  in  his  own  room,  where  he  had  been 
brought  several  letters  and  one  small  package,  the 
latter  coming  by  mail.  With  this  one  point  gained — 
if  it  was  a  point — I  went  back  to  New  York. 

Calling  on  Mrs.  Holmes,  I  asked  her  if,  while 
her  husband  was  away,  she  had  sent  him  anything  be- 
sides letters,  and  upon  her  replying  to  the  contrary, 
requested  to  know  if  in  her  visit  to  Philadelphia  she 
had  noted  among  her  husband's  effects  anything  that 
was  new  or  unfamiliar  to  her.  "  For  he  received  a 
package  while  there,"  I  explained,  "  and  though  its 
contents  may  have  been  perfectly  harmless,  it  is  just 
as  well  for  us  to  be  assured  of  this  before  going  any 
further." 

"  Oh,  you  think,  then,  he  was  really  the  victim  of 
some  secret  violence." 

"  We  have  no  proof  of  it,"  I  said.  "  On  the  con- 
trary, we  are  assured  that  he  died  from  natural 
causes.  But  the  incident  of  the  newspaper  slip  out- 
weighs, in  my  mind,  the  doctor's  conclusions,  and 
until  the  mystery  surrounding  that  obituary  notice 
has  been  satisfactorily  explained  by  its  author  I  shall 


164  THE  LITTLE  STEEL  COILS 

hold  to  the  theory  that  your  husband  has  been  made 
away  with  in  some  strange  and  seemingly  unaccount- 
able manner,  which  it  is  our  duty  to  bring  to  light." 

"  You  are  right !  You  are  right !  Oh,  John 
Graham!  " 

She  was  so  carried  away  by  this  plain  expression  of 
my  belief  that  she  forgot  the  question  I  had  put 
to  her. 

"  You  have  not  said  whether  or  not  you  found  any- 
thing among  your  husband's  effects  that  can  explain 
this  mystery,"  I  suggested. 

She  at  once  became  attentive. 

"Nothing,"  said  she;  "his  trunks  were  already 
packed  and  his  bag  nearly  so.  There  were  a  few 
things  lying  about  the  room  which  I  saw  thrust  into 
the  latter.  Would  you  like  to  look  through  them? 
I  have  not  had  the  heart  to  open  the  bag  since  I 
came  back." 

As  this  was  exactly  what  I  wished,  I  said  as  much, 
and  she  led  me  into  a  small  room,  against  the  wall 
of  which  stood  a  trunk  with  a  travelling-bag  on  top 
of  it.  Opening  the  latter,  she  spread  the  contents 
out  on  the  trunk. 

"  I  know  all  these  things,"  she  sadly  murmured, 
the  tears  welling  in  her  eyes. 

"This?"  I  inquired,  lifting  up  a  bit  of  coiled 
wire  with  two  or  three  rings  dangling  from  it. 

"No;  why,  what  is  that?" 

"  It  looks  like  a  puzzle  of  some  kind." 

"  Then  it  is  of  no  consequence.  My  husband  was 
forever  amusing  himself  over  some  such  contrivance. 


THE  LITTLE  STEEL  COILS  165 

All  his  friends  knew  how  well  he  liked  these  toys  and 
frequently  sent  them  to  him.  This  one  evidently 
reached  him  from  Philadelphia." 

Meanwhile  I  was  eyeing  the  bit  of  wire  curiously. 
It  was  undoubtedly  a  puzzle,  but  it  had  appendages 
to  it  that  I  did  not  understand. 

"  It  is  more  than  ordinarily  complicated,"  I  ob- 
served, moving  the  rings  up  and  down  in  a  vain  en- 
deavour to  work  them  off. 

"  The  better  he  would  like  it,"  she  said. 

I  kept  working  with  the  rings.  Suddenly  I  gave 
a  painful  start.  A  little  prong  in  the  handle  of  the 
toy  had  started  out  and  pierced  me. 

"  You  had  better  not  handle  it,"  said  I,  and  laid 
it  down.  But  the  next  moment  I  took  it  up  again 
and  put  it  in  my  pocket.  The  prick  made  by  this 
treacherous  bit  of  mechanism  was  in  or  near  the  same 
place  on  my  thumb  as  the  one  I  had  noticed  on  the 
hand  of  the  deceased  Mr.  Holmes. 

There  was  a  fire  in  the  room,  and  before  proceed- 
ing further  I  cauterised  that  prick  with  the  end  of 
a  red-hot  poker.  Then  I  made  my  adieux  to  Mrs. 
Holmes  and  went  immediately  to  a  chemist  friend 
of  mine. 

"  Test  the  end  of  this  bit  of  steel  for  me,"  said  I. 
"  I  have  reason  to  believe  it  carries  with  it  a  deadly 
poison." 

He  took  the  toy,  promising  to  subject  it  to  every 
test  possible  and  let  me  know  the  result.  Then  I 
went  home.  I  felt  ill,  or  imagined  I  did,  which 
under  the  circumstances  was  almost  as  bad. 


166  THE  LITTLE  STEEL  COILS 

Next  day,  however,  I  was  quite  well,  with  the 
exception  of  a  certain  inconvenience  in  my  thumb. 
But  not  till  the  following  week  did  I  receive  the 
chemist's  report.  It  overthrew  my  whole  theory. 
He  found  nothing,  and  returned  me  the  bit  of  steel. 

But  I  was  not  convinced. 

"  I  will  hunt  up  this  John  Graham,"  thought  I, 
"  and  study  him." 

But  this  was  not  so  easy  a  task  as  it  may  appear. 
As  Mrs.  Holmes  possessed  no  clue  to  the  where- 
abouts of  her  quondam  lover,  I  had  nothing  to  aid 
me  in  my  search  for  him,  save  her  rather  vague  de- 
scription of  his  personal  appearance  and  the  fact 
that  he  was  constantly  interrupted  in  speaking  by  a 
low,  choking  cough.  However,  my  natural  persever- 
ance carried  me  through.  After  seeing  and  inter- 
viewing a  dozen  John  Grahams  without  result,  I  at 
last  lit  upon  a  man  of  that  name  who  presented  a 
figure  of  such  vivid  unrest  and  showed  such  a  des- 
perate hatred  of  his  fellows,  that  I  began  to  enter- 
tain hopes  of  his  being  the  person  I  was  in  search 
of.  But  determined  to  be  sure  of  this  before  proceed- 
ing further,  I  confided  my  suspicions  to  Mrs. 
Holmes,  and  induced  her  to  accompany  me  down 
to  a  certain  spot  on  the  "  Elevated  "  from  which  I 
had  more  than  once  seen  this  man  go  by  to  his  usual 
lounging  place  in  Printing  House  Square. 

She  showed  great  courage  in  doing  this,  for  she 
had  such  a  dread  of  him  that  she  was  in  a  state  of 
nervous  excitement  from  the  moment  she  left  her 
house,  feeling  sure  that  she  would  attract  his  atten- 


THE  LITTLE  STEEL  COILS  167 

tion  and  thus  risk  a  disagreeable  encounter.  But 
she  might  have  spared  herself  these  fears.  He  did 
not  even  glance  up  in  passing  us,  and  it  was  mainly 
by  his  walk  she  recognised  him.  But  she  did  recog- 
nise him;  and  this  nerved  me  at  once  to  set  about  the 
formidable  task  of  fixing  upon  him  a  crime  which 
was  not  even  admitted  as  a  fact  by  the  authori- 
ties. 

He  was  a  man-about-town,  living,  to  all  appear- 
ances, by  his  wits.  He  was  to  be  seen  mostly  in  the 
downtown  portions  of  the  city,  standing  for  hours 
in  front  of  some  newspaper  office,  gnawing  at  his 
finger-ends,  and  staring  at  the  passers-by  with  a  hun- 
gry look  alarming  to  the  timid  and  provoking  alms 
from  the  benevolent.  Needless  to  say  that  he  re- 
jected the  latter  expression  of  sympathy  with  angry 
contempt. 

His  face  was  long  and  pallid,  his  cheek-bones  high, 
and  his  mouth  bitter  and  resolute  in  expression.  He 
wore  neither  beard  nor  moustache,  but  made  up  for 
their  lack  by  an  abundance  of  light-brown  hair,  which 
hung  very  nearly  to  his  shoulders.  He  stooped  in 
standing,  but  as  soon  as  he  moved,  showed  decision 
and  a  certain  sort  of  pride  which  caused  him  to  hold 
his  head  high  and  his  body  more  than  usually  erect. 
With  all  these  good  points  his  appearance  was  de- 
cidedly sinister,  and  I  did  not  wonder  that  Mrs. 
Holmes  feared  him. 

My  next  move  was  to  accost  him.  Pausing  before 
the  doorway  in  which  he  stood,  I  addressed  him  some 
trivial  question.  He  answered  me  with  sufficient 


i68  THE  LITTLE  STEEL  COILS 

politeness,  but  with  a  grudging  attention  which  be- 
trayed the  hold  which  his  own  thoughts  had  upon 
him.  He  coughed  while  speaking,  and  his  eye, 
which  for  a  moment  rested  on  mine,  produced  an  im- 
pression upon  me  for  which  I  was  hardly  prepared, 
great  as  was  my  prejudice  against  him.  There  was 
such  an  icy  composure  in  it;  the  composure  of  an 
envenomed  nature  conscious  of  its  superiority  to  all 
surprises.  As  I  lingered  to  study  him  more  closely, 
the  many  dangerous  qualities  of  the  man  became 
more  and  more  apparent  to  me;  and  convinced  that 
to  proceed  further  without  deep  and  careful  thought 
would  be  to  court  failure  where  triumph  would  set 
me  up  for  life,  I  gave  up  all  present  attempt  at 
enlisting  him  in  conversation  and  went  away  in  an 
inquiring  and  serious  mood. 

In  fact,  my  position  was  a  peculiar  one,  and  the 
problem  I  had  set  for  myself  one  of  unusual  diffi- 
culty. Only  by  means  of  some  extraordinary  device 
such  as  is  seldom  resorted  to  by  the  police  of  this 
or  any  other  nation,  could  I  hope  to  arrive  at  the 
secret  of  this  man's  conduct,  and  triumph  in  a  matter 
which  to  all  appearance  was  beyond  human  pene- 
tration. 

But  what  device?  I  knew  of  none,  nor  through 
two  days  and  nights  of  strenuous  thought  did  I  re- 
ceive the  least  light  on  the  subject.  Indeed,  my 
mind  seemed  to  grow  more  and  more  confused  the 
more  I  urged  it  into  action.  I  failed  to  get  inspira- 
tion indoors  or  out;  and  feeling  my  health  suffer 
from  the  constant  irritation  of  my  recurring  dis- 


THE  LITTLE  STEEL  COILS  169 

appointment,  I  resolved  to  take  a  day  off  and  carry 
myself  and  my  perplexities  into  the  country. 

I  did  so.  Governed  by  an  impulse  which  I  did 
not  then  understand,  I  went  to  a  small  town  in  New 
Jersey  and  entered  the  first  house  on  which  I  saw 
the  sign  "  Room  to  Let."  The  result  was  most 
fortunate.  No  sooner  had  I  crossed  the  threshold 
of  the  neat  and  homely  apartment  thrown  open  to 
my  use,  than  it  recalled  a  room  in  which  I  had  slept 
two  years  before  and  in  which  I  had  read  a  little 
book  I  was  only  too  glad  to  remember  at  this  mo- 
ment. Indeed,  it  seemed  as  if  a  veritable  inspiration 
had  come  to  me  through  this  recollection,  for  though 
the  tale  to  which  I  allude  was  a  simple  child's  story 
written  for  moral  purposes,  it  contained  an  idea 
which  promised  to  be  invaluable  to  me  at  this  junc- 
ture. Indeed,  by  means  of  it,  I  believed  myself  to 
have  solved  the  problem  that  was  puzzling  me,  and, 
relieved  beyond  expression,  I  paid  for  the  night's 
lodging  I  had  now  determined  to  forego,  and  re- 
turned immediately  to  New  York,  having  spent  just 
fifteen  minutes  in  the  town  where  I  had  received  this 
happy  inspiration. 

My  first  step  on  entering  the  city  was  to  order  a 
dozen  steel  coils  made  similar  to  the  one  which  I 
still  believed  answerable  for  James  Holmes's  death. 
My  next  to  learn  as  far  as  possible  all  of  John 
Graham's  haunts  and  habits.  At  a  week's  end  I  had 
the  springs  and  knew  almost  as  well  as  he  did  him- 
self where  he  was  likely  to  be  found  at  all  times  of 
the  day  and  night.  I  immediately  acted  upon  this 


170  THE  LITTLE  STEEL  COILS 

knowledge.  Assuming  a  slight  disguise,  I  repeated 
my  former  stroll  through  Printing  House  Square, 
looking  into  each  doorway  as  I  passed.  John  Gra- 
ham was  in  one  of  them,  staring  in  his  old  way  at  the 
passing  crowd,  but  evidently  seeing  nothing  but  the 
images  formed  by  his  own  disordered  brain.  A 
manuscript  roll  stuck  out  of  his  breast-pocket,  and 
from  the  way  his  nervous  fingers  fumbled  with  it,  I 
began  to  understand  the  restless  glitter  of  his  eyes, 
which  were  as  full  of  wretchedness  as  any  eyes  I  have 
ever  seen. 

Entering  the  doorway  where  he  stood,  I  dropped 
at  his  feet  one  of  the  small  steel  coils  with  which  I 
was  provided.  He  did  not  see  it.  Stopping  near 
him,  I  directed  his  attention  to  it  by  saying: 

"  Pardon  me,  but  did  I  not  see  something  drop  out 
of  your  hand?  " 

He  started,  glanced  at  the  seemingly  inoffensive 
toy  I  had  pointed  out,  and  altered  so  suddenly  and  so 
vividly  that  it  became  instantly  apparent  that  the 
surprise  I  had  planned  for  him  was  fully  as  keen  and 
searching  a  one  as  I  had  anticipated.  Recoiling 
sharply,  he  gave  me  a  quick  look,  then  glanced  down 
again  at  his  feet  as  if  half  expecting  to  find  the  object 
of  his  terror  gone.  But,  perceiving  it  still  lying 
there,  he  crushed  it  viciously  with  his  heel,  and  utter- 
ing some  incoherent  words  dashed  impetuously  from 
the  building. 

Confident  that  he  would  regret  this  hasty  impulse 
and  return,  I  withdrew  a  few  steps  and  waited.  And 
sure  enough,  in  less  than  five  minutes  he  came  slink- 


THE  LITTLE  STEEL  COILS  171 

ing  back.  Picking  up  the  coil  with  more  than  one 
sly  look  about,  he  examined  it  closely.  Suddenly  he 
gave  a  sharp  cry  and  went  staggering  out.  Had  he 
discovered  that  the  seeming  puzzle  possessed  the 
same  invisible  spring  which  had  made  the  one 
handled  by  James  Holmes  so  dangerous? 

Certain  as  to  the  place  he  would  be  found  next,  I 
made  a  short  cut  to  an  obscure  little  saloon  in  Nassau 
Street,  where  I  took  up  my  stand  in  a  spot  conveni- 
ent for  seeing  without  being  seen.  In  ten  minutes 
he  was  standing  at  the  bar  asking  for  a  drink. 

"  Whiskey !  "  he  cried.     "  Straight." 

It  was  given  him,  but  as  he  set  the  empty  glass 
down  on  the  counter  he  saw  lying  before  him  another 
of  the  steel  springs,  and  was  so  confounded  by  the 
sight  that  the  proprietor,  who  had  put  it  there  at 
my  instigation,  thrust  out  his  hand  toward  him  as 
if  half  afraid  he  would  fall. 

"  Where  did  that — that  thing  come  from?  "  stam- 
mered John  Graham,  ignoring  the  other's  gesture 
and  pointing  with  a  trembling  hand  at  the  insignifi- 
cant bit  of  wire  between  them. 

"  Didn't  it  drop  from  your  coat-pocket? "  in- 
quired the  proprietor.  "  It  wasn't  lying  here  before 
you  came  in." 

With  a  horrible  oath  the  unhappy  man  turned  and 
fled  from  the  place.  I  lost  sight  of  him  after  that 
for  three  hours,  then  I  suddenly  came  upon  him 
again.  He  was  walking  uptown  with  a  set  purpose 
in  his  face  that  made  him  look  more  dangerous  than 
ever.  Of  course  I  followed  him,  expecting  him  to 


i72  THE  LITTLE  STEEL  COILS 

turn  towards  Fifty-ninth  Street,  but  at  the  corner 
of  Madison  Avenue  and  Forty-seventh  Street  he 
changed  his  mind  and  dashed  toward  Third  Avenue. 
At  Park  Avenue  he  faltered  and  again  turned  north, 
walking  for  several  blocks  as  if  the  fiends  were  be- 
hind him.  I  began  to  think  that  he  was  but  attempt- 
ing to  walk  off  his  excitement,  when,  at  a  sudden 
rushing  sound  in  the  cut  beside  us,  he  stopped  and 
trembled.  An  express  train  was  shooting  by.  As 
it  disappeared  in  the  tunnel  beyond,  he  looked  about 
him  with  a  blanched  face  and  wandering  eye;  but 
his  glance  did  not  turn  my  way,  or,  if  it  did,  he 
failed  to  attach  any  meaning  to  my  near  pres- 
ence. 

He  began  to  move  on  again  and  this  time  towards 
the  bridge  spanning  the  cut.  I  followed  him  very 
closely.  In  the  centre  of  it  he  paused  and  looked 
down  at  the  track  beneath  him.  Another  train  was 
approaching.  As  it  came  near  he  trembled  from 
head  to  foot,  and,  catching  at  the  railing  against 
which  he  leaned,  was  about  to  make  a  quick  move 
forward  when  a  puff  of  smoke  arose  from  below  and 
sent  him  staggering  backward,  gasping  with  a  terror 
I  could  hardly  understand  till  I  saw  that  the  smoke 
had  taken  the  form  of  a  spiral  and  was  sailing  away 
before  him  in  what  to  his  disordered  imagination 
must  have  looked  like  a  gigantic  image  of  the  coil 
with  which  twice  before  on  this  day  he  had  found 
himself  confronted. 

It  may  have  been  chance  and  it  may  have  been 
providence;  but  whichever  it  was  it  saved  him.  He 


THE  LITTLE  STEEL  COILS  173 

could  not  face  that  semblance  of  his  haunting 
thought;  and  turning  away  he  cowered  down  on  the 
neighbouring  curbstone,  where  he  sat  for  several  min- 
utes, with  his  head  buried  in  his  hands;  when  he 
arose  again  he  was  his  own  daring  and  sinister  self. 
Knowing  that  he  was  now  too  much  master  of  his 
faculties  to  ignore  me  any  longer,  I  walked  quickly 
away  and  left  him.  I  knew  where  he  would  be  at 
six  o'clock  and  had  already  engaged  a  table  at  the 
same  restaurant.  It  was  seven,  however,  before  he 
put  in  an  appearance,  and  by  this  time  he  was  looking 
more  composed.  There  was  a  reckless  air  about 
him,  however,  which  was  perhaps  only  noticeable  to 
me;  for  none  of  the  habitues  of  this  especial  restau- 
rant were  entirely  without  it;  wild  eyes  and  unkempt 
hair  being  in  the  majority. 

I  let  him  eat.  The  dinner  he  ordered  was  simple 
and  I  had  not  the  heart  to  interrupt  his  enjoyment 
of  it. 

But  when  he  had  finished  and  came  to  pay,  then  I 
allowed  the  shock  to  come.  Under  the  bill  which 
the  waiter  laid  at  the  side  of  his  plate  was  the  in- 
evitable steel  coil ;  and  it  produced  even  more  than 
its  usual  effect.  I  own  I  felt  sorry  for  him. 

He  did  not  dash  from  the  place,  however,  as  he 
had  from  the  liquor  saloon.  A  spirit  of  resistance 
had  seized  him  and  he  demanded  to  know  where 
this  object  of  his  fear  had  come  from.  No  one  could 
tell  him  (or  would).  Whereupon  he  began  to  rave 
and  would  certainly  have  done  himself  or  somebody 
else  an  injury  if  he  had  not  been  calmed  by  a  man 


174  THE  LITTLE  STEEL  COILS 

almost  as  wild-looking  as  himself.  Paying  his  bill, 
but  vowing  he  would  never  enter  the  place  again,  he 
went  out,  clay  white,  but  with  the  swaggering  air  of 
a  man  who  had  just  asserted  himself. 

He  drooped,  however,  as  soon  as  he  reached  the 
street,  and  I  had  no  difficulty  in  following  him  to  a 
certain  gambling  den,  where  he  gained  three  dollars 
and  lost  five.  From  there  he  went  to  his  lodgings  in 
West  Tenth  Street. 

I  did  not  follow  him.  He  had  passed  through 
many  deep  and  wearing  emotions  since  noon,  and  I 
had  not  the  heart  to  add  another  to  them. 

But  late  the  next  day  I  returned  to  this  house  and 
rang  the  bell.  It  was  already  dusk,  but  there  was 
light  enough  for  me  to  notice  the  unrepaired  condi- 
tion of  the  iron  railings  on  either  side  of  the  old 
stoop  and  to  compare  this  abode  of  decayed  grandeur 
with  the  spacious  and  elegant  apartment  in  which 
pretty  Mrs.  Holmes  mourned  the  loss  of  her  young 
husband.  Had  any  such  comparison  ever  been  made 
by  the  unhappy  John  Graham,  as  he  hurried  up  these 
battered  steps  into  the  dismal  halls  beyond? 

In  answer  to  my  summons  there  came  to  the  door  a 
young  woman  to  whom  I  had  but  to  intimate  my  wish 
to  see  Mr.  Graham  for  her  to  let  me  in  with  the 
short  announcement: 

"Top  floor,  back  room!  Door  open,  he's  out; 
door  shut,  he's  in." 

As  an  open  door  meant  liberty  to  enter,  I  lost  no 
time  in  following  the  direction  of  her  finger,  and 
presently  found  myself  in  a  low  attic  chamber  over- 


THE  LITTLE  STEEL  COILS  175 

looking  an  acre  of  roofs.  A  fire  had  been  lighted  in 
the  open  grate,  and  the  flickering  red  beams  danced 
on  ceiling  and  walls  with  a  cheeriness  greatly  in  con- 
trast to  the  nature  of  the  business  which  had  led  me 
there.  As  they  also  served  to  light  the  room,  I  pro- 
ceeded to  make  myself  at  home;  and  drawing  up  a 
chair,  sat  down  at  the  fireplace  in  such  a  way  as  to 
conceal  myself  from  any  one  entering  the  door. 

In  less  than  half  an  hour  he  came  in.^ 

He  was  in  a  state  of  high  emotion.  His  face  was 
flushed  and  his  eyes  burning.  Stepping  rapidly  for- 
ward, he  flung  his  hat  on  the  table  in  the  middle  of 
the  room,  with  a  curse  that  was  half  cry  and  half 
groan.  Then  he  stood  silent  and  I  had  an  oppor- 
tunity of  noting  how  haggard  he  had  grown  in  the 
short  time  which  had  elapsed  since  I  had  seen  him 
last.  But  the  interval  of  his  inaction  was  short,  and 
in  a  moment  he  flung  up  his  arms  with  a  loud  "  Curse 
her !  "  that  rang  through  the  narrow  room  and  be- 
trayed the  source  of  his  present  frenzy.  Then  he 
again  stood  still,  grating  his  teeth  and  working  his 
hands  in  a  way  terribly  suggestive  of  the  murderer's 
instinct.  But  not  for  long.  He  saw  something  that 
attracted  his  attention  on  the  table,  a  something  upon 
which  my  eyes  had  long  before  been  fixed,  and  start- 
ing forward  with  a  fresh  and  quite  different  display 
of  emotion,  he  caught  up  what  looked  like  a  roll  of 
manuscript  and  began  to  tear  it  open. 

"  Back  again!  Always  back!  "  wailed  from  his 
lips;  and  he  gave  the  roll  a  toss  that  sent  from  its 
midst  a  small  object  which  he  no  sooner  saw  than 


1 76  THE  LITTLE  STEEL  COILS 

he  became  speechless  and  reeled  back.  It  was  an- 
other of  the  steel  coils. 

"  Good  God !  "  fell  at  last  from  his  stiff  and  work- 
ing lips.  "  Am  I  mad  or  has  the  devil  joined  in  the 
pursuit  against  me?  I  cannot  eat,  I  cannot  drink, 
but  this  diabolical  spring  starts  up  before  me.  It  is 
here,  there,  everywhere.  The  visible  sign  of  my 
guilt;  the — the —  He  had  stumbled  back  upon 

my  chair,  and  turning,  saw  me. 

I  was  on  my  feet  at  once,  and  noting  that  he  was 
dazed  by  the  shock  of  my  presence,  I  slid  quietly  be- 
tween him  and  the  door. 

The  movement  roused  him.  Turning  upon  me 
with  a  sarcastic  smile  in  which  was  concentrated  the 
bitterness  of  years,  he  briefly  said: 

"  So  I  am  caught !  Well,  there  has  to  be  an  end  to 
men  as  well  as  to  things,  and  I  am  ready  for  mine. 
She  turned  me  away  from  her  door  to-day,  and  after 
the  hell  of  that  moment  I  don't  much  fear  any  other." 

"  You  had  better  not  talk,"  I  admonished  him. 
"  All  that  falls  from  you  now  will  only  tell  against 
you  on  your  trial." 

He  broke  into  a  harsh  laugh.  "  And  do  you  think 
I  care  for  that?  That  having  been  driven  by  a 
woman's  perfidy  into  crime  I  am  going  to  bridle 
my  tongue  and  keep  down  the  words  which  are  my 
only  safeguard  from  insanity?  No,  no;  while  my 
miserable  breath  lasts  I  will  curse  her,  and  if  the 
halter  is  to  cut  short  my  words,  it  shall  be  with  her 
name  blistering  my  lips." 

I  attempted  to  speak,  but  he  would  not  give  me 


THE  LITTLE  STEEL  COILS  177 

an  opportunity.  The  passion  of  weeks  had  found 
vent  and  he  rushed  on  recklessly: 

"  I  went  to  her  house  to-day.  I  wanted  to  see  her 
in  her  widow's  weeds;  I  wanted  to  see  her  eyes  red 
with  weeping  over  a  grief  which  owed  its  bitterness 
to  me.  But  she  would  not  grant  me  admittance. 
She  had  me  thrust  from  her  door,  and  I  shall  never 
know  how  deeply  the  iron  has  sunk  into  her  soul. 
But  " — and  here  his  face  showed  a  sudden  change — 
"  I  shall  see  her  if  I  am  tried  for  murder.  She  will 
be  in  the  courtroom — on  the  witness  stand " 

"  Doubtless,"  I  interjected;  but  his  interruption 
came  quickly  and  with  vehement  passion. 

"  Then  I  am  ready.  Welcome  trial,  conviction, 
death,  even.  To  confront  her  eye  to  eye  is  all  I 
wish.  She  shall  never  forget  it,  never !  " 

"  Then  you  do  not  deny "  I  began. 

"  I  deny  nothing,"  he  returned,  and  held  out  his 
hands  with  a  grim  gesture.  "  How  can  I,  when  there 
falls  from  everything  I  touch  the  devilish  thing  which 
took  away  the  life  I  hated?" 

"  Have  you  anything  more  to  say  or  do  before 
you  leave  these  rooms?  "  I  asked. 

He  shook  his  head,  and  then,  bethinking  himself, 
pointed  to  the  roll  of  paper  which  he  had  flung  on 
the  table. 

"Burn  that!"  he  cried. 

I  took  up  the  roll  and  looked  at  it.  It  was  the 
manuscript  of  a  poem  in  blank  verse. 

"  I  have  been  with  it  into  a  dozen  newspaper  and 
magazine  offices,"  he  explained  with  great  bitter- 


178  THE  LITTLE  STEEL  COILS 

ness.  "  Had  I  succeeded  in  getting  a  publisher  for 
it  I  might  have  forgotten  my  wrongs  and  tried  to 
build  up  a  new  life  on  the  ruins  of  the  old.  But  they 
would  not  have  it,  none  of  them;  so  I  say,  burn  it! 
that  no  memory  of  me  may  remain  in  this  miserable 
world." 

"  Keep  to  the  facts !  "  I  severely  retorted.  "  It 
was  while  carrying  this  poem  from  one  newspaper  to 
another  that  you  secured  that  bit  of  print  upon  the 
blank  side  of  which  yourself  printed  the  obituary 
notice  with  which  you  savoured  your  revenge  upon 
the  woman  who  had  disappointed  you." 

"  You  know  that?  Then  you  know  where  I  got 
the  poison  with  which  I  tipped  the  silly  toy  with 
which  that  weak  man  fooled  away  his  life?  " 

"  No,"  said  I,  "  I  do  not  know  where  you  got  it. 
I  merely  know  it  was  no  common  poison  bought 
at  a  druggist's,  or  from  any  ordinary  chemist." 

"It  was  woorali;  the  deadly,  secret  woorali.  I 
got  it  from — but  that  is  another  man's  secret.  You 
will  never  hear  from  me  anything  that  will  com- 
promise a  friend.  I  got  it,  that  is  all.  One  drop, 
but  it  killed  my  man." 

The  satisfaction,  the  delight,  which  he  threw  into 
these  words  are  beyond  description.  As  they  left  his 
lips  a  jet  of  flame  from  the  neglected  fire  shot  up 
and  threw  his  figure  for  one  instant  into  bold  relief 
upon  the  lowering  ceiling;  then  it  died  out,  and  noth- 
ing but  the  twilight  dusk  remained  in  the  room  and 
on  the  countenance  of  this  doomed  and  despairing 
man. 


THE  STAIRCASE  AT  HEART'S 
DELIGHT 


IN  the  spring  of  18 — ,  the  attention  of  the  New 
York  police  was  attracted  by  the  many  cases  of  well- 
known  men  found  drowned  in  the  various  waters 
surrounding  the  lower  portion  of  our  great  city. 
Among  these  may  be  mentioned  the  name  of  Elwood 
Henderson,  the  noted  tea  merchant,  whose  remains 
were  washed  ashore  at  Redhook  Point;  and  of 
Christopher  Bigelow,  who  was  picked  up  off  Gov- 
ernor's Island  after  having  been  in  the  water  for  five 
days,  and  of  another  well-known  millionaire  whose 
name  I  cannot  now  recall,  but  who,  I  remember,  was 
seen  to  walk  towards  the  East  River  one  March 
evening,  and  was  not  met  with  again  till  the  5th  of 
April,  when  his  body  floated  into  one  of  the  docks 
near  Peck's  Slip. 

As  it  seemed  highly  improbable  that  there  should 
have  been  a  concerted  action  among  so  many  wealthy 
and  distinguished  men  to  end  their  lives  within  a  few 
weeks  of  each  other,  and  all  by  the  same  method  of 
drowning,  we  soon  became  suspicious  that  a  more 
serious  verdict  than  that  of  suicide  should  have  been 
rendered  in  the  case  of  Henderson,  Bigelow,  and  the 
other  gentleman  I  have  mentioned.  Yet  one  fact, 
common  to  all  these  cases,  pointed  so  conclusively 
to  deliberate  intention  on  the  part  of  the  sufferers 
that  we  hesitated  to  take  action. 

This  was,  that  upon  the  body  of  each  of  the  above- 
mentioned  persons  there  were  found,  not  only  valu- 

181 


182     THE  STAIRCASE  AT  HEART'S  DELIGHT 

ables  in  the  shape  of  money  and  jewelry,  but  papers 
and  memoranda  of  a  nature  calculated  to  fix  the 
identity  of  the  drowned  man,  in  case  the  water  should 
rob  him  of  his  personal  characteristics.  Conse- 
quently, we  could  not  ascribe  these  deaths  to  a 
desire  for  plunder  on  the  part  of  some  unknown 
person. 

I  was  a  young  man  in  those  days,  and  full  of 
ambition.  So,  though  I  said  nothing,  I  did  not  let 
this  matter  drop  when  the  others  did,  but  kept  my 
mind  persistently  upon  it  and  waited,  with  odd  re- 
sults as  you  will  hear,  for  another  victim  to  be  re- 
ported at  police  headquarters. 

Meantime  I  sought  to  discover  some  bond  or 
connection  between  the  several  men  who  had  been 
found  drowned,  which  would  serve  to  explain  their 
similar  fate.  But  all  my  efforts  in  this  direction 
were  fruitless.  There  was  no  bond  between  them, 
and  the  matter  remained  for  a  while  an  unsolved 
mystery. 

Suddenly  one  morning  a  clue  was  placed,  not  in 
my  hands,  but  in  those  of  a  superior  official  who  at 
that  time  exerted  a  great  influence  over  the  whole 
force.  He  was  sitting  in  his  private  room,  when 
there  was  ushered  into  his  presence  a  young  man  of  a 
dissipated  but  not  unprepossessing  appearance,  who, 
after  a  pause  of  marked  embarrassment,  entered 
upon  the  following  story: 

"  I  don't  know  whether  or  no  I  should  offer  an 
excuse  for  the  communication  I  am  about  to  make; 
but  the  matter  I  have  to  relate  is  simply  this:  Being 


THE  STAIRCASE  AT  HEART'S  DELIGHT     183 

hard  up  last  night  (for  though  a  rich  man's  son  I 
often  lack  money),  I  went  to  a  certain  pawnshop  in 
the  Bowery  where  I  had  been  told  I  could  raise 
money  on  my  prospects.  This  place — you  may  see  it 
some  time,  so  I  will  not  enlarge  upon  it — did  not 
strike  me  favourably;  but,  being  very  anxious  for  a 
certain  definite  sum  of  money,  I  wrote  my  name  in  a 
book  which  was  brought  to  me  from  some  unknown 
quarter  and  proceeded  to  follow  the  young  woman 
who  attended  me  into  what  she  was  pleased  to  call 
her  good  master's  private  office. 

"  He  may  have  been  a  good  master,  but  he  was 
anything  but  a  good  man.  In  short,  sir,  when  he 
found  out  who  I  was,  and  how  much  I  needed  money, 
he  suggested  that  I  should  make  an  appointment 
with  my  father  at  a  place  he  called  Groll's  in  Grand 
Street,  where,  said  he,  '  your  little  affair  will  be  ar- 
ranged, and  you  made  a  rich  man  within  thirty  days. 
That  is,'  he  slily  added,  *  unless  your  father  has 
already  made  a  will,  disinheriting  you.' 

"  I  was  shocked,  sir,  shocked  beyond  all  my  pow- 
ers of  concealment,  not  so  much  at  his  words,  which 
I  hardly  understood,  as  at  his  looks,  which  had  a 
world  of  evil  suggestion  in  them;  so  I  raised  my 
fist  and  would  have  knocked  him  down,  only  that  I 
found  two  young  fellows  at  my  elbows,  who  held  me 
quiet  for  five  minutes,  while  the  old  fellow  talked  to 
me.  He  asked  me  if  I  came  to  him  on  a  fool's 
errand  or  really  to  get  money;  and  when  I  admitted 
that  I  had  cherished  hopes  of  obtaining  a  clear  two 
thousand  dollars  from  him,  he  coolly  replied  that 


184    THE  STAIRCASE  AT  HEART'S  DELIGHT 

he  knew  of  but  one  way  in  which  I  could  hope  to  get 
such  an  amount,  and  that  if  I  was  too  squeamish  to 
adopt  it,  I  had  made  a  mistake  in  coming  to 
his  shop,  which  was  no  missionary  institution,  etc., 
etc. 

"  Not  wishing  to  irritate  him,  for  there  was 
menace  in  his  eye,  I  asked,  with  a  certain  weak  show 
of  being  sorry  for  my  former  heat,  whereabouts  in 
Grand  Street  I  should  find  this  Groll. 

"  The  retort  was  quick.  '  Groll  is  not  his  name,' 
said  he,  *  and  Grand  Street  is  not  where  you  are 
to  go  to  find  him.  I  threw  out  a  bait  to  see  if  you 
would  snap  at  it,  but  I  find  you  timid,  and  therefore 
advise  you  to  drop  the  matter  entirely.' 

"  I  was  quite  willing  to  do  so,  and  answered  him 
to  this  effect;  whereupon,  with  a  side  glance  I  did 
not  understand,  but  which  made  me  more  or  less  un- 
easy in  regard  to  his  intentions  towards  me,  he 
motioned  to  the  men  who  held  my  arms  to  let  go 
their  hold,  which  they  at  once  did. 

"  '  We  have  your  signature,'  growled  the  old  man 
as  I  went  out.  '  If  you  peach  on  us  or  trouble  us  in 
any  way  we  will  show  it  to  your  father  and  that  will 
put  an  end  to  all  your  hopes  of  future  fortune.' 
Then  raising  his  voice,  he  shouted  to  the  girl  in  the 
outer  office,  '  Let  the  young  man  see  what  he  has 
signed.' 

"  She  smiled  and  again  brought  forward  the  book 
in  which  I  had  so  recklessly  placed  my  name,  and 
there  at  the  top  of  the  page  I  read  these  words: 
'  For  moneys  received,  I  agree  to  notify  Rube  Good- 


THE  STAIRCASE  AT  HEART'S  DELIGHT     185 

man,  within  the  month,  of  the  death  of  my  father,  so 
that  he  may  recover  from  me,  without  loss  of  time, 
the  sum  of  ten  thousand  dollars  as  his  part  of  the 
amount  I  am  bound  to  receive  as  my  father's 
heir.' 

"  The  sight  of  these  lines  knocked  me  hollow. 
But  I  am  less  of  a  coward  morally  than  physically, 
and  I  determined  to  acquaint  my  father  at  once  with 
what  I  had  done,  and  get  his  advice  as  to  whether  or 
not  I  should  inform  the  police  of  my  adventure.  He 
heard  me  with  more  consideration  than  I  expected, 
but  insisted  that  I  should  immediately  make  known 
to  you  my  experience  in  this  Bowery  pawnbroker's 
shop." 

The  officer,  highly  interested,  took  down  the  young 
man's  statement  in  writing,  and,  after  getting  a  more 
accurate  description  of  the  house  itself,  allowed  his 
visitor  to  go. 

Fortunately  for  me,  I  was  in  the  building  at  the 
time,  and  was  able  to  respond  when  a  man  was  called 
up  to  investigate  this  matter.  Thinking  that  I  saw 
a  connection  between  it  and  the  various  mysterious 
deaths  of  which  I  have  previously  spoken,  I  entered 
into  the  affair  with  much  spirit.  But,  wishing  to 
be  sure  that  my  possibly  unwarranted  conclusions 
were  correct,  I  took  pains  to  inquire,  before  proceed- 
ing upon  my  errand,  into  the  character  of  the  heirs 
who  had  inherited  the  property  of  Elwood  Hender- 
son and  Christopher  Bigelow,  and  found  that  in  each 
case  there  was  one  among  the  rest  who  was  well 
known  for  his  profligacy  and  reckless  expenditure. 


i86    THE  STAIRCASE  AT  HEART'S  DELIGHT 

It  was  a  significant  discovery,  and  increased,  if  pos- 
sible, my  interest  in  running  down  this  nefarious 
trafficker  in  the  lives  of  wealthy  men. 

Knowing  that  I  could  hope  for  no  success  in  my 
character  of  detective,  I  made  an  arrangement  with 
the  father  of  the  young  gentleman  before  alluded 
to,  by  which  I  was  to  enter  the  pawnshop  as  an 
emissary  of  the  latter.  Accordingly,  I  appeared 
there,  one  dull  November  afternoon,  in  the  garb  of  a 
certain  Western  sporting  man,  who,  for  a  considera- 
tion, allowed  me  the  temporary  use  of  his  name  and 
credentials. 

Entering  beneath  the  three  golden  balls,  with  the 
swagger  and  general  air  of  ownership  I  thought  most 
likely  to  impose  upon  the  self-satisfied  female  who 
presided  over  the  desk,  I  asked  to  see  her  boss. 

"  On  your  own  business?  "  she  queried,  glancing 
with  suspicion  at  my  short  coat,  which  was  rather 
more  showy  than  elegant. 

"  No,"  I  returned,  "  not  on  my  own  business,  but 
on  that  of  a  young  gent " 

"  Any  one  whose  name  is  written  here?  "  she  in- 
terposed, reaching  towards  me  the  famous  book, 
over  the  top  of  which,  however,  she  was  careful  to 
lay  her  arm. 

I  glanced  down  the  page  she  had  opened  and  in- 
stantly detected  that  of  the  young  gentleman  on 
whose  behalf  I  was  supposed  to  be  there,  and  nodded 
"  Yes,"  with  all  the  assurance  of  which  I  was 
capable. 

"  Come,  then,"  said  she,  ushering  me  without  more 


THE  STAIRCASE  AT  HEART'S  DELIGHT     187 

ado  into  a  den  of  discomfort  where  sat  a  man  with 
a  great  beard  and  such  heavy  overhanging  eyebrows 
that  I  could  hardly  detect  the  twinkle  of  his  eyes, 
keen  and  incisive  as  they  were. 

Smiling  upon  him,  but  not  in  the  same  way  I  had 
upon  the  girl,  I  glanced  behind  me  at  the  open  door, 
and  above  me  at  the  partitions,  which  failed  to  reach 
the  ceiling.  Then  I  shook  my  head  and  drew  a  step 
nearer. 

"  I  have  come,"  I  insinuatingly  whispered,  "  on 
behalf  of  a  certain  party  who  left  this  place  in  a 
huff  a  day  or  so  ago,  but  who  since  then  has  had 
time  to  think  the  matter  over,  and  has  sent  me  with 
an  apology  which  he  hopes  " — here  I  put  on  a  dia- 
bolical smile,  copied,  I  declare  to  you,  from  the  one 
I  saw  at  that  moment  on  his  own  lips — "  you  will 
accept" 

The  old  wretch  regarded  me  for  full  two  minutes 
in  a  way  to  unmask  me  had  I  possessed  less  confi- 
dence in  my  disguise  and  in  my  ability  to  support  it. 

"  And  what  is  this  young  gentleman's  name?  "  he 
finally  asked. 

For  reply,  I  handed  him  a  slip  of  paper.  He  took 
it  and  read  the  few  lines  written  on  it,  after  which 
he  began  to  rub  his  palms  softly  together  with  an 
unction  eminently  in  keeping  with  the  stray  glints  of 
light  that  now  and  then  found  their  way  through  his 
bushy  eyebrows. 

"  And  so  the  young  gentleman  had  not  the  cour- 
age to  come  again  himself?  "  he  softly  suggested, 
with  just  the  suspicion  of  an  ironical  laugh. 


1 88     THE  STAIRCASE  AT  HEART'S  DELIGHT 

"  Thought,  perhaps,  I  would  exact  too  much  com- 
mission; or  make  him  pay  too  roundly  for  his  im- 
pertinent assurance." 

I  shrugged  my  shoulders,  but  vouchsafed  no  im- 
mediate reply,  and  he  saw  that  he  had  to  open  the 
business  himself.  He  did  it  warily  and  with  many  an 
incisive  question  which  would  have  tripped  me  up  if 
I  had  not  been  very  much  on  my  guard;  but  it  all 
ended,  as  such  matters  usually  do,  in  mutual  under- 
standing, and  a  promise  that  if  the  young  gentleman 
was  willing  to  sign  a  certain  paper,  which,  by  the 
way,  was  not  shown  me,  he  would  in  exchange  give 
him  an  address  which,  if  made  proper  use  of,  would 
lead  to  my  patron  finding  himself  an  independent 
man  within  a  very  few  days. 

As  this  address  was  the  one  thing  I  was  most 
desirous  of  obtaining,  I  professed  myself  satisfied 
with  the  arrangement,  and  proceeded  to  hunt  up  my 
patron,  as  he  was  called.  Informing  him  of  the 
result  of  my  visit,  I  asked  if  his  interest  in  ferreting 
out  these  criminals  was  strong  enough  to  lead  him  to 
sign  the  vile  document  which  the  pawnbroker  would 
probably  have  in  readiness  for  him  on  the  morrow; 
and  being  told  it  was,  we  separated  for  that  day,  with 
the  understanding  that  we  were  to  meet  the  next 
morning  at  the  spot  chosen  by  the  pawnbroker  for 
the  completion  of  his  nefarious  bargain. 

Being  certain  that  I  was  being  followed  in  all  my 
movements  by  the  agents  of  this  adept  in  villainy, 

I  took  care,  upon  leaving  Mr.  L ,  to  repair  to  the 

hotel  of  the  sporting  man  I  was  personifying.  Mak- 


THE  STAIRCASE  AT  HEART'S  DELIGHT     189 

ing  myself  square  with  the  proprietor  I  took  up  my 
quarters  in  the  room  of  my  sporting  friend,  and  the 
better  to  deceive  any  spy  who  might  be  lurking  about, 
1  received  his  letters  and  sent  out  his  telegrams, 
which,  if  they  did  not  create  confusion  in  the  affairs 
of  "  The  Plunger,"  must  at  least  have  occasioned 
him  no  little  work  the  next  day. 

Promptly  at  ten  o'clock  on  the  following  morning 
I  met  my  patron  at  the  appointed  place  of  rendez- 
vous; and  when  I  tell  you  that  this  was  no  other 
than  the  ancient  and  now  disused  cemetery  of  which  a 
portion  is  still  to  be  seen  off  Chatham  Square,  you  will 
understand  the  uncanny  nature  of  this  whole  adven- 
ture, and  the  lurking  sense  there  was  in  it  of  brooding 
death  and  horror.  The  scene,  which  in  these  days 
is  disturbed  by  elevated  railroad  trains  and  the  flap- 
ping of  long  lines  of  parti-coloured  clothes  strung 
high  up  across  the  quiet  tombstones,  was  at  that  time 
one  of  peaceful  rest,  in  the  midst  of  a  quarter  de- 
voted to  everything  for  which  that  rest  is  the  fitting 
and  desirable  end;  and  as  we  paused  among  the 
mossy  stones,  we  found  it  hard  to  realise  that  in  a 
few  minutes  there  would  be  standing  beside  us  the 
concentrated  essence  of  all  that  was  evil  and  des- 
picable in  human  nature. 

He  arrived  with  a  smile  on  his  countenance  that 
completed  his  ugliness,  and  would  have  frightened 
any  honest  man  from  his  side  at  once.  Merely 
glancing  my  way,  he  shuffled  up  to  my  companion, 
and  leading  him  aside,  drew  out  a  paper  which  he 
laid  on  a  flat  tombstone  with  a  gesture  significant  of 


i9o    THE  STAIRCASE  AT  HEART'S  DELIGHT 

his  desire  that  the  other  should  affix  to  it  the  required 
signature. 

Meantime  I  stood  guard,  and  while  attempting  to 
whistle  a  light  air,  was  carelessly  taking  in  the  sur- 
roundings, and  conjecturing,  as  best  I  might,  the 
reasons  which  had  induced  the  old  ghoul  to  make 
use  of  this  spot  for  his  diabolical  business,  and  had 
about  decided  that  it  was  because  he  was  a  ghoul,  and 
thus  felt  at  home  among  the  symbols  of  mortality, 
when  I  caught  sight  of  two  or  three  young  fel- 
lows who  were  lounging  on  the  other  side  of  the 
fence. 

These  were  so  evidently  accomplices  that  I  won- 
dered if  the  two  sly  boys  I  had  engaged  to  stand  by 
me  through  this  affair  had  spotted  them,  and  would 
know  enough  to  follow  them  back  to  their  haunts. 

A  few  minutes  later,  the  old  rascal  came  sneaking 
towards  me,  with  a  gleam  of  satisfaction  in  his  half- 
closed  eyes. 

"  You  are  not  wanted  any  longer,"  he  grunted. 
"  The  young  gentleman  told  me  to  say  that  he  could 
look  out  for  himself  now." 

"  The  young  gentleman  had  better  pay  me  the 
round  fifty  he  promised  me,"  I  grumbled  in  return, 
with  that  sudden  change  from  indifference  to  menace 
which  I  thought  best  calculated  to  further  my  plans; 
and  shouldering  the  miserable  wretch  aside,  I 
stepped  up  to  my  companion,  who  was  still  lingering 
in  a  state  of  hesitation  among  the  gravestones. 

"  Quick!  Tell  me  the  number  and  street  which  he 
has  given  you !  "  I  whispered,  in  a  tone  quite  out  of 


THE  STAIRCASE  AT  HEART'S  DELIGHT     191 

keeping  with  the  angry  and  reproachful  air  I  had 
assumed. 

He  was  about  to  answer,  when  the  old  fellow  came 
sidling  up  behind  us.  Instantly  the  young  man  be- 
fore me  rose  to  the  occasion,  and  putting  on  an  air 
of  conciliation,  said  in  a  soothing  tone: 

"  There,  there,  don't  bluster.  Do  one  thing  more 
for  me,  and  I  will  add  another  fifty  to  that  I  prom- 
ised you.  Conjure  up  an  anonymous  letter — you 
know  how — and  send  it  to  my  father,  saying  that  if 
he  wants  to  know  where  his  son  loses  his  hundreds, 
he  must  go  to  the  place  on  the  dock,  opposite  5 
South  Street,  some  night  shortly  after  nine.  It  would 
not  work  with  most  men,  but  it  will  with  my  father, 
and  when  he  has  been  in  and  out  of  that  place,  and 
I  succeed  to  the  fortune  he  will  leave  me,  then  I 
will  remember  you,  and " 

"  Say,  too,"  a  sinister  voice  here  added  in  my 
ear,  "  that  if  he  wishes  to  effect  an  entrance  into  the 
gambling  den  which  his  son  haunts,  he  must  take 
the  precaution  of  tying  a  bit  of  blue  ribbon  in  his 
buttonhole.  It  is  a  signal  meaning  business,  and 
must  not  be  forgotten,"  chuckled  the  old  fellow,  evi- 
dently deceived  at  last  into  thinking  I  was  really 
one  of  his  own  kind. 

I  answered  by  a  wink,  and  taking  care  to  attempt 
no  further  communication  with  my  patron,  I  left  the 
two,  as  soon  as  possible,  and  went  back  to  the  hotel, 
where  I  dropped  "  the  sport,"  and  assumed  a  char- 
acter and  dress  which  enabled  me  to  make  my  way 
undetected  to  the  house  of  my  young  patron,  where 


J92     THE  STAIRCASE  AT  HEART'S  DELIGHT 

for  two  days  I  lay  low,  waiting  for  a  suitable  time 
in  which  to  make  my  final  attempt  to  penetrate  this 
mystery. 

I  knew  that  for  the  adventure  I  was  now  con- 
templating considerable  courage  was  required.  But 
I  did  not  hesitate.  The  time  had  come  for  me  to 
show  my  mettle.  In  the  few  communications  I  was 
enabled  to  hold  with  my  superiors  I  told  them  of 
my  progress  and  arranged  with  them  my  plan  of 
work.  As  we  all  agreed  that  I  was  about  to  en- 
counter no  common  villainy,  these  plans  naturally 
partook  of  finesse,  as  you  will  see  if  you  follow  my 
narrative  to  the  end. 

Early  in  the  evening  of  a  cool  November  day 
I  sallied  forth  into  the  streets,  dressed  in  the  habili- 
ments and  wearing  the  guise  of  the  wealthy  old  gen- 
tleman whose  secret  guest  I  had  been  for  the  last 
few  days.  As  he  was  old  and  portly,  and  I  young 
and  spare,  this  disguise  had  cost  me  no  little  thought 
and  labour.  But  assisted  as  I  was  by  the  darkness,  I 
had  but  little  fear  of  betraying  myself  to  any  chance 
spy  who  might  be  upon  the  watch,  especially  as  Mr. 

L had  a  peculiar  walk,  which,  in  my  short  stay 

with  him,  I  had  learned  to  imitate  perfectly.  In  the 
lapel  of  my  overcoat  I  had  tied  a  tag  of  blue  ribbon, 
and,  though  for  all  I  knew  this  was  a  signal  devoting 
me  to  a  secret  and  mysterious  death,  I  walked  along 
in  a  buoyant  condition  of  mind,  attributable,  no 
doubt,  to  the  excitement  of  the  venture  and  to  my 
desire  to  test  my  powers,  even  at  the  risk  of  my  life. 

It  was  nine  o'clock  when  I  reached  South  Street. 


THE  STAIRCASE  AT  HEART'S  DELIGHT     193 

It  was  no  new  region  to  me,  nor  was  I  ignorant  of  the 
specified  drinking  den  on  the  dock  to  which  I  had 
been  directed.  I  remembered  it  as  a  bright  spot  in 
a  mass  of  ship-prows  and  bow-rigging,  and  was  pos- 
sessed, besides,  of  a  vague  consciousness  that  there 
was  something  odd  in  connection  with  it  which  had 
aroused  my  curiosity  sufficiently  in  the  past  for  me 
to  have  once  formed  the  resolution  of  seeing  it  again 
under  circumstances  which  would  allow  me  to  give 
it  some  attention.  But  I  never  thought  that  the  cir- 
cumstances would  involve  my  own  life,  impossible  as 
it  is  for  a  detective  to  reckon  upon  the  future  or  to 
foresee  the  events  into  which  he  will  be  hurried  by  the 
next  crime  which  may  be  reported  at  police  head- 
quarters. 

There  were  but  few  persons  in  the  street  when  I 
crossed  to  The  Heart's  Delight — so  named  from  the 
heart-shaped  opening  in  the  framework  of  the  door, 
through  which  shone  a  light,  inviting  enough  to  one 
chilled  by  the  keen  November  air  and  oppressed  by 
the  desolate  appearance  of  the  almost  deserted  street. 
But  amongst  those  persons  I  thought  I  recognised 
more  than  one  familiar  form,  and  felt  reassured  as 
to  the  watch  which  had  been  set  upon  the  house. 

The  night  was  dark  and  the  river  especially  so,  but 
in  the  gloomy  space  beyond  the  dock  I  detected  a 
shadow  blacker  than  the  rest,  which  I  took  for  the 
police  boat  they  had  promised  to  have  in  readiness  in 
case  I  needed  rescue  from  the  waterside.  Otherwise 
the  surroundings  were  as  usual,  and  saving  the  gruff 
singing  of  some  drunken  sailor  coming  from  a  nar- 


194    THE  STAIRCASE  AT  HEART'S  DELIGHT 

row  side  street  near  by,  no  sound  disturbed  the  some- 
what lugubrious  silence  of  this  weird  and  forsaken 
spot. 

Pausing  an  instant  before  entering,  I  glanced  up 
at  the  building,  which  was  about  three  stories  high, 
and  endeavoured  to  see  what  there  was  about  it 
which  had  once  arrested  my  attention,  and  came  to 
the  conclusion  that  it  was  its  exceptional  situation  on 
the  dock,  and  the  ghostly  effect  of  the  hoisting-beam 
projecting  from  the  upper  story  like  a  gibbet.  And 
yet  this  beam  was  common  to  many  a  warehouse  in 
the  vicinity,  though  in  none  of  them  were  there  any 
such  signs  of  life  as  proceeded  from  the  curious 
mixture  of  sail  loft,  boat  shop,  and  drinking  saloon, 
now  before  me.  Could  it  be  that  the  ban  of  criminal- 
ity was  upon  the  house,  and  that  I  had  been  con- 
scious of  this  without  being  able  to  realise  the  cause 
of  my  interest? 

Not  stopping  to  solve  my  sensations  further,  I 
tried  the  door,  and,  finding  it  yield  easily  to  my 
touch,  turned  the  knob  and  entered.  For  a  mo- 
ment I  was  blinded  by  the  smoky  glare  of  the  heated 
atmosphere  into  which  I  stepped,  but  presently  I 
was  able  to  distinguish  the  vague  outlines  of  an 
oyster  bar  in  the  distance,  and  the  motionless  figures 
of  some  half-dozen  men,  whose  movements  had  been 
arrested  by  my  sudden  entrance.  For  an  instant  this 
picture  remained;  then  the  drinking  and  card  playing 
were  resumed,  and  I  stood,  as  it  were,  alone,  on  the 
sanded  floor  near  the  door. 

Improving  the  opportunity  for  a  closer  inspec- 


THE  STAIRCASE  AT  HEART'S  DELIGHT     195 

tion  of  the  place,  I  was  struck  by  its  picturesqueness. 
It  had  evidently  been  once  used  as  a  ship  chandlery, 
and  on  the  walls,  which  were  but  partly  plastered, 
there  still  hung  old  bits  of  marlin,  rusty  rings,  and 
such  other  evidences  of  former  traffic  as  did  not 
interfere  with  the  present  more  lucrative  business. 

Below  were  the  two  bars,  one  at  the  right  of  the 
door,  and  the  other  at  the  lower  end  of  the  room 
near  a  window,  through  whose  small,  square  panes  I 
caught  a  glimpse  of  the  coloured  lights  of  a  couple 
of  ferryboats,  passing  each  other  in  midstream. 

At  a  table  near  me  sat  two  men,  grumbling  at 
each  other  over  a  game  of  cards.  They  were  large 
and  powerful  figures  in  the  contracted  space  of  this 
long  and  narrow  room,  and  my  heart  gave  a  bound 
of  joy  as  I  recognised  on  them  certain  marks  by 
which  I  was  to  know  friend  from  foe  in  this  possible 
den  of  thieves  and  murderers. 

Two  sailors  at  the  bar  were  bona  fide  habitues  of 
the  place  and  so  were  the  two  other  waterside  charac- 
ters I  could  faintly  discern  in  one  of  the  dim  corners. 
Meantime  a  man  was  approaching  me. 

Let  me  see  if  I  can  describe  him.  He  was  about 
thirty,  and  had  the  complexion  and  figure  of  a  con- 
sumptive, but  his  eye  shone  with  the  yellow  glare  of 
a  beast  of  prey,  and  in  the  cadaverous  hollows  of 
his  ashen  cheeks  and  amid  the  lines  about  his  thin 
drawn  lips  there  lay,  for  all  his  conciliatory  smile, 
an  expression  so  cold  and  yet  so  ferocious  that  I 
spotted  him  at  once  as  the  man  to  whose  genius  we 
were  indebted  for  the  new  scheme  of  murder  which 


ig6    THE  STAIRCASE  AT  HEART'S  DELIGHT 

I  was  jeopardising  my  life  to  understand.  But  I 
allowed  none  of  the  repugnance  with  which  he  in- 
spired me  to  appear  in  my  manner,  and,  greeting 
him  with  half  a  nod,  waited  for  him  to  speak.  His 
voice  had  that  smooth  quality  which  betrays  the 
hypocrite. 

"  Has  the  gentleman  any  appointment  here?  "  he 
asked,  letting  his  glance  fall  for  the  merest  instant 
on  the  lapel  of  my  coat. 

I  returned  a  decided  affirmative.  "  Or  rather," 
I  went  on,  with  a  meaning  look  he  evidently  compre- 
hended, "  my  son  has,  and  I  have  made  up  my  mind 
to  know  just  what  deviltry  he  is  up  to  these  days. 
I  can  make  it  worth  your  while  to  give  me  the  op- 
portunity." 

"  Oh,  I  see,"  he  assented  with  a  glance  at  the 
pocketbook  I  had  just  drawn  out.  "  You  want  a 
private  room  from  which  you  can  watch  the  young 
i  scapegrace.  I  understand,  I  understand.  But  the 
private  rooms  are  above.  Gentlemen  are  not  com- 
fortable here." 

"  I  should  say  not,"  I  murmured,  and  drew  from 
the  pocketbook  a  bill  which  I  slid  quietly  into  his 
hand.  "  Now  take  me  where  I  shall  be  safe,"  I  sug- 
gested, "  and  yet  in  full  sight  of  the  room  where  the 
young  gentlemen  play.  I  wish  to  catch  him  at  his 
tricks.  Afterwards " 

"  All  will  be  well,"  he  finished  smoothly,  with  an- 
other glance  at  my  blue  ribbon.  "  You  see  I  do  not 
ask  you  the  young  gentleman's  name.  I  take  your 
money  and  leave  all  the  rest  to  you.  Only  don't 


THE  STAIRCASE  AT  HEART'S  DELIGHT     197 

make  a  scandal,  I  pray,  for  my  house  has  the  name 
of  being  quiet." 

"Yes,"  thought  I,  "too  quiet!"  and  for  an  in- 
stant felt  my  spirits  fail  me.  But  it  was  only  for 
an  instant.  I  had  friends  about  me  and  a  pistol 
at  half-cock  in  the  pocket  of  my  overcoat.  Why 
should  I  fear  any  surprise,  prepared  as  I  was  for 
every  emergency? 

"  I  will  show  you  up  in  a  moment,"  said  he;  and 
left  me  to  put  up  a  heavy  board  shutter  over  the 
window  opening  on  the  river.  Was  this  a  signal  or 
a  precaution?  I  glanced  towards  my  two  friends 
playing  cards,  took  another  note  of  their  broad 
shoulders  and  brawny  arms,  and  prepared  to  follow 
my  host,  who  now  stood  bowing  at  the  other  end  of 
the  room,  before  a  covered  staircase  which  was  mani- 
festly the  sole  means  of  reaching  the  floor  above. 

The  staircase  was  quite  a  feature  in  the  room. 
It  ran  from  back  to  front,  and  was  boarded  all 
the  way  up  to  the  ceiling.  On  these  boards  hung  a 
few  useless  bits  of  chain,  wire,  and  knotted  ends  of 
tarred  ropes,  which  swung  to  and  fro  as  the  sharp 
November  blast  struck  the  building,  giving  out  a 
weird  and  strangely  muffled  sound.  Why  did  this 
sound,  so  easily  to  be  accounted  for,  ring  in  my  ears 
like  a  note  of  warning?  I  understand  now,  but  I 
did  not  then,  full  of  expectation  as  I  was  for  de- 
velopments out  of  the  ordinary. 

Crossing  the  room,  I  entered  upon  the  staircase, 
in  the  wake  of  my  companion.  Though  the  two  men 
at  cards  did  not  look  up  as  I  passed  them,  I  noticed 


198    THE  STAIRCASE  AT  HEART'S  DELIGHT 

that  they  were  alert  and  ready  for  any  signal  I  might 
choose  to  give  them.  But  I  was  not  ready  to  give 
one  yet.  I  must  see  danger  before  I  summoned  help, 
and  there  was  no  token  of  danger  yet. 

When  we  were  about  half-way  up  the  stairs  the 
faint  light  which  had  illuminated  us  from  below  sud- 
denly vanished,  and  we  found  ourselves  in  total 
darkness.  The  door  at  the  foot  had  been  closed  by  a 
careful  hand,  and  I  felt,  rather  than  heard,  the 
stealthy  pushing  of  a  bolt  across  it. 

My  first  impulse  was  to  forsake  my  guide  and 
rush  back,  but  I  subdued  the  unworthy  impulse  and 
stood  quite  still,  while  my  companion,  exclaiming, 
"  Damn  that  fellow !  What  does  he  mean  by  shut- 
ting the  door  before  we're  half-way  up !  "  struck  a 
match  and  lit  a  gas  jet  in  the  room  above,  which 
poured  a  flood  of  light  upon  the  staircase. 

Drawing  my  hand  from  the  pocket  in  which  I  had 
put  my  revolver,  I  hastened  after  him  into  the 
small  landing  at  the  top  of  the  stairs.  An  open  door 
was  before  me,  in  which  he  stood  bowing,  with  the 
half-burnt  match  in  his  hand.  "  This  is  the  place, 
sir,"  he  announced,  motioning  me  in. 

I  entered  and  he  remained  by  the  door,  while  I 
passed  quickly  about  the  room,  which  was  bare  of 
every  article  of  furniture  save  a  solitary  table  and 
chair.  There  was  not  even  a  window  in  it,  with  the 
exception  of  one  small  light  situated  so  high  up  in 
the  corner  made  by  the  jutting  staircase  that  I  won- 
dered at  its  use,  and  was  only  relieved  of  extreme 
apprehension  at  the  prison-like  appearance  of  the 


THE  STAIRCASE  AT  HEART'S  DELIGHT     199 

place  by  the  gleam  of  light  which  came  through  this 
dusty  pane,  showing  that  I  was  not  entirely  removed 
from  the  presence  of  my  foes  if  I  was  from  that  of 
my  friends. 

"  Ah,  you  have  spied  the  window,"  remarked  my 
host,  advancing  toward  me  with  a  countenance  he 
vainly  endeavoured  to  make  reassuring  and  friendly. 
"  That  is  your  post  of  observation,  sir,"  he  whis- 
pered, with  a  great  show  of  mystery.  "  By  mounting 
on  the  table  you  can  peer  into  the  room  where  my 
young  friends  sit  securely  at  play." 

As  it  was  not  part  of  my  scheme  to  show  any 
special  mistrust,  I  merely  smiled  a  little  grimly,  and 
cast  a  glance  at  the  table  on  which  stood  a  bottle 
of  brandy  and  one  glass. 

"Very  good  brandy,"  he  whispered;  "not  such 
stuff  as  we  give  those  fellows  downstairs." 

I  shrugged  my  shoulders  and  he  slowly  backed  to- 
wards the  door. 

"  The  young  men  you  bid  me  watch  are  very 
quiet,"  I  suggested,  with  a  careless  wave  of  my  hand 
towards  the  room  he  had  mentioned. 

"  Oh,  there  is  no  one  there  yet.  They  begin  to 
straggle  in  about  ten  o'clock." 

"  Ah,"  was  my  quiet  rejoinder,  "  I  am  likely,  then, 
to  have  use  for  your  brandy." 

He  smiled  again  and  made  a  swift  motion  towards 
the  door. 

"  If  you  want  anything,"  said  he,  "  just  step  to 
the  foot  of  the  staircase  and  let  me  know.  The 
whole  establishment  is  at  your  service."  And  with 


200    THE  STAIRCASE  AT  HEART'S  DELIGHT 

one  final  grin  that  remains  in  my  mind  as  the  most 
threatening  and  diabolical  I  have  ever  witnessed,  he 
laid  his  hand  on  the  knob  of  the  door  and  slid  quickly 
out. 

It  was  done  with  such  an  air  of  final  farewell 
that  I  felt  my  apprehensions  take  a  positive  form. 
Rushing  towards  the  door  through  which  he  had  just 
vanished,  I  listened  and  heard,  as  I  thought,  his 
stealthy  feet  descend  the  stair.  But  when  I  sought 
to  follow,  I  found  myself  for  the  second  time  over- 
whelmed by  darkness.  The  gas  jet,  which  had 
hitherto  burned  with  great  brightness  in  the  small 
room,  had  been  turned  off  from  below,  and  beyond 
the  faint  glimmer  which  found  its  way  through  the 
small  window  of  which  I  have  spoken,  not  a  ray  of 
light  now  disturbed  the  heavy  gloom  of  this  grue- 
some apartment. 

I  had  thought  of  every  contingency  but  this,  and 
for  a  few  minutes  my  spirits  were  dashed.  But  I 
soon  recovered  some  remnants  of  self-possession, 
and  began  feeling  for  the  knob  I  could  no  longer  see. 
Finding  it  after  a  few  futile  attempts,  I  was  relieved 
to  discover  that  this  door  at  least  was  not  locked; 
and,  opening  it  with  a  careful  hand,  I  listened  in- 
tently, but  could  hear  nothing  save  the  smothered 
sound  of  men  talking  in  the  room  below. 

Should  I  signal  for  my  companions?  No,  for  the 
secret  was  not  yet  mine  as  to  how  men  passed  from 
this  room  into  the  watery  grave  which  was  the  evi- 
dent goal  for  all  wearers  of  the  blue  ribbon. 

Stepping  back  into  the  middle  of  the  room,  I  care- 


THE  STAIRCASE  AT  HEART'S  DELIGHT     201 

fully  pondered  my  situation,  but  could  get  no  further 
than  the  fact  that  I  was  somehow,  and  in  some  way, 
in  mortal  peril.  Would  it  come  in  the  form  of  a 
bullet,  or  a  deadly  thrust  from  an  unseen  knife?  I 
did  not  think  so.  For,  to  say  nothing  of  the  dark- 
ness, there  was  one  reassuring  fact  which  recurred 
constantly  to  my  mind  in  connection  with  the 
murders  I  was  endeavouring  to  trace  to  this  den  of 
iniquity. 

None  of  the  gentlemen  who  had  been  found 
drowned  had  shown  any  marks  of  violence  on  their 
bodies,  so  it  was  not  attack  I  was  to  fear,  but  some 
mysterious,  underhanded  treachery  which  would  rob 
me  of  consciousness  and  make  the  precipitation  of 
my  body  into  the  water  both  safe  and  easy.  Per- 
haps it  was  in  the  bottle  of  brandy  that  the  peril 
lay;  perhaps — but  why  speculate  further!  I  would 
watch  till  midnight  and  then,  if  nothing  happened, 
signal  my  companions  to  raid  the  house. 

Meantime  a  peep  into  the  next  room  might  help 
me  towards  solving  the  mystery.  Setting  the  bottle 
and  glass  aside,  I  dragged  the  table  across  the  floor, 
placed  it  under  the  lighted  window,  mounted,  and 
was  about  to  peer  through,  when  the  light  in  that 
apartment  was  put  out  also.  Angry  and  over- 
whelmed, I  leaped  down,  and,  stretching  out  my  hands 
till  they  touched  the  wainscoting,  I  followed  the 
wall  around  till  I  came  to  the  knob  of  the  door,  which 
I  frantically  clutched.  But  I  did  not  turn  it  immedi- 
ately, I  was  too  anxious  to  catch  these  villains  at 
work. 


202     THE  STAIRCASE  AT  HEART'S  DELIGHT 

Would  I  be  conscious  of  the  harm  they  meditated 
against  me,  or  would  I  imperceptibly  yield  to  some 
influence  of  which  I  was  not  yet  conscious,  and  drop 
to  the  floor  before  I  could  draw  my  revolver  or  put 
to  my  mouth  the  whistle  upon  which  I  depended  for 
assistance  and  safety?  It  was  hard  to  tell,  but  I  de- 
termined to  cling  to  my  first  intention  a  little  longer, 
and  so  stood  waiting  and  counting  the  minutes,  while 
wondering  if  the  captain  of  the  police  boat  was  not 
getting  impatient,  and  whether  I  had  not  more  to 
fear  from  the  anxiety  of  my  friends  than  the  cupidity 
of  my  foes. 

You  see,  I  had  anticipated  communicating  with 
the  men  in  this  boat  by  certain  signals  and  tokens 
which  had  been  arranged  between  us.  But  the  lack 
of  windows  in  the  room  had  made  all  such  arrange- 
ments futile,  so  I  knew  as  little  of  their  actions  as 
they  did  of  my  sufferings ;  all  of  which  did  not  tend 
to  add  to  the  cheerfulness  of  my  position. 

However,  I  held  out  for  a  half-hour,  listening, 
waiting,  and  watching  in  a  darkness  which,  like  that 
of  Egypt,  could  be  felt,  and  when  the  suspense  grew 
intolerable  I  struck  a  match  and  let  its  blue  flame 
flicker  for  a  moment  over  the  face  of  my  watch. 
But  the  matches  soon  gave  out  and  with  them  my 
patience,  if  not  my  courage,  and  I  determined  to  end 
the  suspense  by  knocking  at  the  door  beneath. 

This  resolution  taken,  I  pulled  open  the  door  be- 
fore me  and  stepped  out.  Though  I  could  see  noth- 
ing, I  remembered  the  narrow  landing  at  the  top 
of  the  stairs,  and,  stretching  out  my  arms,  I  felt  for 


THE  STAIRCASE  AT  HEART'S  DELIGHT     203 

the  boarding  on  either  hand,  guiding  myself  by  it, 
and  began  to  descend,  when  something  rising,  as  it 
were,  out  of  the  cavernous  darkness  before  me  made 
me  halt  and  draw  back  in  mingled  dread  and  horror. 

But  the  impression,  strong  as  it  was,  was  only 
momentary,  and,  resolved  to  be  done  with  the  matter, 
I  precipitated  myself  downward,  when  suddenly,  at 
about  the  middle  of  the  staircase,  my  feet  slipped 
and  I  slid  forward,  plunging  and  reaching  out  with 
hands  whose  frenzied  grasp  found  nothing  to  cling 
to,  down  a  steep  inclined  plane — or  what  to  my  be- 
wildered senses  appeared  such — till  I  struck  a  yield- 
ing surface  and  passed  with  one  sickening  plunge  into 
the  icy  waters  of  the  river,  which  in  another 
moment  had  closed  dark  and  benumbing  above  my 
head. 

It  was  all  so  rapid  I  did  not  think  of  uttering  a 
cry.  But  happily  for  me  the  splash  I  made  told  the 
story,  and  I  was  rescued  before  I  could  sink  a  sec- 
ond time. 

It  was  full  half  an  hour  before  I  had  sufficiently 
recovered  from  the  shock  to  relate  my  story.  But 
when  once  I  had  made  it  known,  you  can  imagine 
the  gusto  with  which  the  police  prepared  to  enter 
the  house  and  confound  the  obliging  host  with  a 
sight  of  my  dripping  garments  and  accusing  face. 
And,  indeed,  in  all  my  professional  experience  I  have 
never  beheld  a  more  sudden  merging  of  the  bully  into 
a  coward  than  was  to  be  seen  in  this  slick  villain's 
face,  when  I  was  suddenly  pulled  from  the  crowd 
and  placed  before  him,  with  the  old  man's  wig  gone 


204    THE  STAIRCASE  AT  HEART'S  DELIGHT 

from  my  head,  and  the  tag  of  blue  ribbon  still  cling- 
ing to  my  wet  coat. 

His  game  was  up,  and  he  saw  it;  and  Ebenezer 
Gryce's  career  had  begun. 

Like  all  destructive  things  the  device  by  which 
I  had  been  run  into  the  river  was  simple  enough  when 
understood.  In  the  first  place  it  had  been  con- 
structed to  serve  the  purpose  of  a  stairway  and 
chute.  The  latter  was  in  plain  sight  when  it  was 
used  by  the  sailmakers  to  run  the  finished  sails  into 
the  waiting  yawls  below.  At  the  time  of  my  adven- 
ture, and  for  some  time  before,  the  possibilities  of 
the  place  had  been  discovered  by  mine  host,  who  had 
ingeniously  put  a  partition  up  the  entire  stairway, 
dividing  the  steps  from  the  smooth  runway.  At  the 
upper  part  of  the  runway  he  had  built  a  few  steps, 
wherewith  to  lure  the  unwary  far  enough  down  to 
insure  a  fatal  descent.  To  make  sure  of  his  game  he 
had  likewise  ceiled  the  upper  room  all  around,  includ- 
ing the  inclosure  of  the  stairs. 

The  door  to  the  chute  and  the  door  to  the  stairs 
were  side  by  side,  and  being  made  of  the  same  boards 
as  the  wainscoting,  were  scarcely  visible  when  closed, 
while  the  single  knob  that  was  used,  being  transfer- 
able from  one  to  the  other,  naturally  gave  the  im- 
pression that  there  was  but  one  door.  When  this 
adroit  villain  called  my  attention  to  the  little  win- 
dow around  the  corner,  he  no  doubt  removed  the 
knob  from  the  stairs'  door  and  quickly  placed  it  in 
the  one  opening  upon  the  chute.  Another  door,  con- 
necting the  two  similar  landings  without,  explains 


THE  STAIRCASE  AT  HEART'S  DELIGHT     205 

how  he  got  from  the  chute  staircase  into  which  he 
passed  on  leaving  me,  to  the  one  communicating  with 
the  room  below. 

The  mystery  was  solved,  and  my  footing  on  the 
force  secured ;  but  to  this  day — and  I  am  an  old  man 
now — I  have  not  forgotten  the  horror  of  the  moment 
when  my  feet  slipped  from  under  me,  and  I  felt 
myself  sliding  downward,  without  hope  of  rescue, 
into  a  pit  of  heaving  waters,  where  so  many  men  of 
conspicuous  virtue  had  already  ended  their  valuable 
lives. 

Myriad  thoughts  flashed  through  my  brain  in  that 
brief  interval,  and  among  them  the  whole  method 
of  operating  this  death-trap,  together  with  every 
detail  of  evidence  that  would  secure  the  conviction 
of  the  entire  gang. 


THE  AMETHYST  BOX 


THE  FLASK  WHICH  HELD  BUT  A  DROP 

IT  was  the  night  before  the  wedding.  Though  Sin- 
clair, and  not  myself,  was  the  happy  man,  I  had  my 
own  causes  for  excitement,  and,  finding  the  heat  of 
the  billiard-room  insupportable,  I  sought  the  veranda 
for  a  solitary  smoke  in  sight  of  the  ocean  and  a  full 
moon. 

I  was  in  a  condition  of  rapturous,  if  unreasoning, 
delight.  That  afternoon  a  little  hand  had  lingered 
in  mine  for  just  an  instant  longer  than  the  circum- 
stances of  the  moment  strictly  required;  and  small 
as  the  favour  may  seem  to  those  who  do  not  know 
Dorothy  Camerden,  to  me,  who  realised  fully  both 
her  delicacy  and  pride,  it  was  a  sign  that  my  long,  if 
secret,  devotion  was  about  to  be  rewarded,  and  that 
at  last  I  was  free  to  cherish  hopes  whose  alternative 
had  once  bid  fair  to  wreck  the  happiness  of  my 
life. 

I  was  revelling  in  the  felicity  of  these  anticipa- 
tions, and  contrasting  this  hour  of  ardent  hope  with 
others  of  whose  dissatisfaction  and  gloom  I  was  yet 
mindful,  when  a  sudden  shadow  fell  across  the 
broad  band  of  light  issuing  from  the  library  windo^ 
and  Sinclair  stepped  out. 

He  had  the  appearance  of  being  disturbed — very 
209 


2io  THE  AMETHYST  BOX 

much  disturbed,  I  thought,  for  a  man  on  the  point 
of  marrying  the  woman  for  whom  he  professed  to 
entertain  the  one  profound  passion  of  his  life;  but 
remembering  his  frequent  causes  of  annoyance — 
causes  quite  apart  from  his  bride  and  her  personal 
attributes — I.  kept  on  placidly  smoking  till  I  felt  his 
hand  on  my  shoulder,  and  turned  to  see  that  the 
moment  was  a  serious  one. 

"  I  have  something  to  say  to  you, "'he  whispered. 
"  Come  where  we  shall  run  less  risk  of  being  dis- 
turbed." 

"What's  wrong?"  I  asked,  facing  him  with 
curiosity,  if  not  with  alarm.  "  I  never  saw  you  look 
like  this  before.  Has  the  old  lady  taken  this  last 
minute  to " 

"  Hush!  "  he  prayed,  emphasising  the  word  with 
a  curt  gesture  not  to  be  mistaken.  "  The  little  room 
over  the  west  porch  is  empty  just  now.  Follow  me 
there." 

With  a  sigh  for  the  cigar  I  had  so  lately  lighted,  I 
tossed  it  into  the  bushes  and  sauntered  in  after  him. 
I  thought  I  understood  his  trouble.  The  prospective 
bride  was  young — a  mere  slip  of  a  girl  indeed — 
bright,  beautiful,  and  proud,  yet  with  odd  little  re- 
straints in  her  manner  and  language,  due  probably  to 
her  peculiar  bringing  up,  and  the  surprise,  not  yet 
overcome,  of  finding  herself,  after  an  isolated,  if 
not  despised,  childhood,  the  idol  of  society  and  the 
recipient  of  general  homage.  The  fault  was  not 
with  her.  But  she  had  for  guardian  (alas!  my  dear 
girl  had  the  same)  an  aunt  who  was  a  gorgon.  This 


THE  AMETHYST  BOX  211 

aunt  must  have  been  making  herself  disagreeable  to 
the  prospective  bridegroom,  and  he,  being  quick  to 
take  offence — quicker  than  myself,  it  was  said — had 
probably  retorted  in  a  way  to  make  things  un- 
pleasant. As  he  was  a  guest  in  the  house,  he  and 
all  the  other  members  of  the  bridal  party — Mrs. 
Armstrong  having  insisted  upon  opening  her  mag- 
nificent Newport  villa  for  this  wedding  and  its  at- 
tendant festivities — the  matter  might  well  look  black 
to  him.  Yet  I  did  not  feel  disposed  to  take  much 
interest  in  it,  even  though  his  case  might  be  mine 
some  day,  with  all  its  accompanying  drawbacks. 

But  once  confronted  with  Sinclair  in  the  well- 
lighted  room  above,  I  perceived  that  I  had  better 
drop  all  selfish  regrets  and  give  my  full  attention  to 
what  he  had  to  say.  For  his  eye,  which  had  flashed 
with  an  unusual  light  at  dinner,  was  clouded  now; 
and  his  manner,  when  he  strove  to  speak,  betrayed 
a  nervousness  I  had  considered  foreign  to  his  nature 
ever  since  the  day  I  had  seen  him  rein  in  his  horse 
so  calmly  on  the  extreme  edge  of  a  precipice,  where 
a  fall  would  have  meant  certain  death,  not  only  to 
himself,  but  also  to  the  two  riders  who  unwittingly 
were  pressing  closely  behind  him. 

"  Walter,"  he  faltered,  "  something  has  happened 
— something  dreadful,  something  unprecedented! 
You  may  think  me  a  fool — God  knows,  I  would  be 
glad  to  be  proved  so ! — but  this  thing  has  frightened 
me.  I  " — he  paused  and  pulled  himself  together — 
"  I  will  tell  you  about  it,  then  you  can  judge  for 
yourself.  I  am  in  no  condition " 


212  THE  AMETHYST  BOX 

"  Don't  beat  about  the  bush !  Speak  up !  What's 
the  matter?  " 

He  gave  me  an  odd  look  full  of  gloom — a  look  I 
felt  the  force  of,  though  I  could  not  interpret  it; 
then,  coming  closer,  though  there  was  no  one  within 
hearing — possibly  no  one  any  nearer  than  the 
drawing-room  below — he  whispered  in  my  ear: 

"  I  have  lost  a  little  vial  of  the  deadliest  drug 
ever  compounded — a  Venetian  curiosity,  which  I  was 
foolish  enough  to  take  out  and  show  the  ladies, 
because  the  little  box  which  holds  it  is  such  an 
exquisite  example  of  jeweller's  work.  There's  death 
in  its  taste,  almost  in  its  smell;  and  it's  out  of  my 
hands,  and 

"  Well,  I'll  tell  you  how  to  fix  that  up,"  I  put  in 
with  my  usual  frank  decision.  "  Order  the  music 
stopped;  call  everybody  into  the  drawing-room,  and 
explain  the  dangerous  nature  of  this  toy.  After 
which,  if  anything  happens,  it  will  not  be  your  fault, 
but  that  of  the  person  who  has  so  thoughtlessly 
appropriated  it." 

His  eyes,  which  had  been  resting  eagerly  on  mine, 
shifted  aside  in  visible  embarrassment. 

"  Impossible!  It  would  only  aggravate  matters, 
or,  rather,  would  not  relieve  my  fears  at  all.  The 
person  who  took  it  knew  its  nature  very  well,  and 
that  person " 

"  Oh,  then  you  know  who  took  it!  "  I  broke  in 
in  increasing  astonishment.  "  I  thought  from  your 
manner  that " 

"  No,"  he  moodily  corrected,  "  I  do  not  know 


THE  AMETHYST  BOX  213 

who  took  it.  If  I  did,  I  should  not  be  here.  That  is, 
I  do  not  know  the  exact  person.  Only —  Here 

he  again  eyed  me  with  his  former  singular  intent- 
ness,  and,  observing  that  I  was  nettled,  made  a  fresh 
beginning.  "  When  I  came  here  I  brought  with  me 
a  case  of  rarities  chosen  from  my  various  collections. 
In  looking  over  them  preparatory  to  making  a  pres- 
ent to  Gilbertine,  I  came  across  the  little  box  I 
have  just  mentioned.  It  is  made  of  a  single  amethyst, 
and  contains — or  so  I  was  assured  when  I  bought  it 
— a  tiny  flask  of  old  but  very  deadly  poison.  How 
it  came  to  be  included  with  the  other  precious  and 
beautiful  articles  I  had  picked  out  for  her  cadeau  I 
cannot  say.  But  there  it  was;  and  conceiving  that 
the  sight  of  it  would  please  the  ladies,  I  carried  it 
down  into  the  library,  and  in  an  evil  hour  called 
three  or  four  of  those  about  me  to  inspect  it.  This 
was  while  you  boys  were  in  the  billiard-room,  so  the 
ladies  could  give  their  entire  attention  to  the  little 
box,  which  is  certainly  worth  the  most  careful 
scrutiny. 

"  I  was  holding  k  out  on  the  palm  of  my  hand, 
where  it  burned  with  a  purple  light  which  made 
more  than  one  feminine  eye  glitter,  when  somebody 
inquired  to  what  use  so  small  and  yet  so  rich  a 
receptacle  could  be  put.  The  question  was  such  a 
natural  one  I  never  thought  of  evading  it;  besides, 
I  enjoy  the  fearsome  delight  which  women  take 
in  the  marvellous.  Expecting  no  greater  result  than 
lifted  eyebrows  or  flushed  cheeks,  I  answered  by 
pressing  a  little  spring  in  the  filigree-work  surround- 


214  THE  AMETHYST  BOX 

ing  the  gem.  Instantly  the  tiniest  of  lids  flew  back, 
revealing  a  crystal  flask  of  such  minute  propor- 
tions that  the  usual  astonishment  followed  its  dis- 
closure. 

44  '  You  see!  '  I  cried,  '  it  was  made  to  hold  that! ' 
And  moving  my  hand  to  and  fro  under  the  gas  jet, 
I  caused  to  shine  in  their  eyes  the  single  drop  of 
yellow  liquid  it  still  held.  '  Poison !  '  I  impres- 
sively announced.  '  This  trinket  may  have  adorned 
the  bosom  of  a  Borgia  or  flashed  from  the  arm  of 
some  great  Venetian  lady  as  she  flourished  her  fan 
between  her  embittered  heart  and  the  object  of  her 
wrath  or  jealousy.' 

44  The  first  sentence  had  come  naturally,  but  the 
last  was  spoken  at  random,  and  almost  unconsciously. 
For  at  the  utterance  of  the  word  *  poison  '  a  quickly 
suppressed  cry  had  escaped  the  lips  of  some  one  be- 
hind me,  which,  while  faint  enough  to  elude  the 
attention  of  any  ear  less  sensitive  than  my  own,  con- 
tained such  an  astonishing,  if  involuntary,  note  of 
self-betrayal  that  my  mind  grew  numb  with  horror, 
and  I  stood  staring  at  the  fearful  toy  which  had 
called  up  such  a  revelation  of — what?  That  is  what 
I  am  here  to  ask,  first  of  myself,  then  of  you.  For 
the  two  women  pressing  behind  me  were " 

44  Who?  "  I  sharply  demanded,  partaking  in  some 
indefinable  way  of  his  excitement  and  alarm. 

44  Gilbertine  Murray  and  Dorothy  Camerden !  "- 
his  prospective  bride  and  the  woman  I  loved  and 
whom  he  knew  I  loved,  though  I  had  kept  my  secret 
quite  successfully  from  every  one  else ! 


THE  AMETHYST  BOX  215 

The  look  we  exchanged  neither  of  us  will  ever 
forget. 

"  Describe  the  sound,"  I  presently  said. 

"  I  cannot,"  he  replied.  "  I  can  only  give  you  my 
impression  of  it.  You,  like  myself,  fought  in  more 
than  one  skirmish  in  the  Cuban  War.  Did  you 
ever  hear  the  cry  made  by  a  wounded  man  when  the 
cup  of  cool  water  for  which  he  has  long  agonised  is 
brought  suddenly  before  his  eyes?  Such  a  sound, 
with  all  that  goes  to  make  it  eloquent,  did  I  hear 
from  one  of  the  two  girls  who  leaned  over  my 
shoulder.  Can  you  understand  this  amazing,  this 
unheard-of  circumstance  ?  Can  you  name  the  woman 
— can  you  name  the  grief  capable  of  making  either 
of  these  seemingly  happy  and  innocent  girls  hail  the 
sight  of  such  a  doubtful  panacea,  with  an  unconscious 
ebullition  of  joy?  You  would  clear  my  wedding-eve 
of  a  great  dread  if  you  could,  for  if  this  expression 
of  concealed  misery  came  from  Gilbertine " 

"  Do  you  mean,"  I  cried  in  vehement  protest, 
"  that  you  really  are  in  doubt  as  to  which  of  these 
two  women  uttered  the  cry  which  so  startled  you? 
That  you  positively  cannot  tell  whether  it  was  Gil- 
bertine or — or " 

"I  cannot;  as  God  lives,  I  cannot!  I  was  too 
dazed,  too  confounded  by  the  unexpected  circum- 
stance, to  turn  at  once,  and  when  I  did,  it  was  to  see 
both  pairs  of  eyes  shining,  and  both  faces  dimpling 
with  real  or  affected  gaiety.  Indeed,  if  the  matter 
had  stopped  there,  I  should  have  thought  myself  the 
victim  of  some  monstrous  delusion;  but  when,  a 


216  THE  AMETHYST  BOX 

half-hour  later,  I  found  this  box  missing  from  the 
cabinet  where  I  had  hastily  thrust  it  at  the  peremp- 
tory summons  of  our  hostess,  I  knew  that  I  had  not 
misunderstood  the  nature  of  the  cry  I  had  heard; 
that  it  was  indeed  one  of  secret  longing,  and  that  the 
hand  had  simply  taken  what  the  heart  desired.  If 
a  death  occurs  in  this  house  to-night 

"  Sinclair,  you  are  mad!  "  I  exclaimed  with  great 
violence.  No  lesser  word  would  fit  either  the  in- 
tensity of  my  feeling  or  the  confused  state  of  my 
mind.  "  Death  here!  where  all  are  so  happy!  Re- 
member your  bride's  ingenuous  face!  Remember 
the  candid  expression  of  Dorothy's  eye — her  smile, 
her  noble  ways !  You  exaggerate  the  situation.  You 
neither  understand  aright  the  simple  expression  of 
surprise  you  heard,  nor  the  feminine  frolic  which  led 
these  girls  to  carry  off  this  romantic  specimen  of 
Italian  deviltry." 

"  You  are  losing  time,"  was  his  simple  comment. 
"  Every  minute  we  allow  to  pass  in  inaction  only 
brings  the  danger  nearer." 

"What!     You  imagine " 

"  I  imagine  nothing.  I  simply  know  that  one  of 
these  girls  has  in  her  possession  the  means  of  termi- 
nating life  in  an  instant;  that  the  girl  so  having  it 
is  not  happy;  and  that  if  anything  happens  to-night 
it  will  be  because  we  rested  supine  in  the  face  of  a 
very  real  and  possible  danger.  Now,  as  Gilbertine 
has  never  given  me  reason  to  doubt  either  her  affec- 
tion for  myself  or  her  satisfaction  in  our  approach- 
ing union,  I  have  allowed  myself " 


THE  AMETHYST  BOX  217 

"  To  think  that  the  object  of  your  fears  is 
Dorothy,"  I  finished,  with  a  laugh  I  vainly  strove 
to  make  sarcastic. 

He  did  not  answer,  and  I  stood  battling  with  a 
dread  I  could  neither  conceal  nor  avow.  For,  pre- 
posterous as  his  idea  was,  reason  told  me  that  he 
had  some  grounds  for  his  doubt. 

Dorothy,  unlike  Gilbertine  Murray,  was  not  to  be 
read  at  a  glance,  and  her  trouble — for  she  certainly 
had  a  trouble — was  not  one  she  chose  to  share  with 
any  one,  even  with  me.  I  had  flattered  myself  in 
days  gone  by  that  I  understood  it  well  enough,  and 
that  any  lack  of  sincerity  I  might  observe  in  her 
could  be  easily  explained  by  the  position  of  depend- 
ence she  held  toward  an  irascible  aunt.  But  now 
that  I  forced  myself  to  consider  the  matter  carefully, 
I  could  not  but  ask  if  the  varying  moods  by  which 
I  had  found  myself  secretly  harrowed  had  not  sprung 
from  a  very  different  cause — a  cause  for  which  my 
persistent  love  was  more  to  blame  than  the  temper 
of  her  relative.  The  aversion  she  had  once  shown 
to  my  attentions  had  yielded  long  ago  to  a  shy  but 
seemingly  sincere  appreciation  of  them,  and  gleams 
of  what  I  was  fain  to  call  real  feeling  had  shown 
themselves  now  and  then  in  her  softened  manner, 
culminating  to-day  in  that  soft  pressure  of  my  hand 
which  had  awakened  my  hopes  and  made  me  forget 
all  the  doubts  and  caprices  of  a  disturbing  courtship. 

But,  had  I  interpreted  that  strong,  nervous  pres- 
sure aright?  Had  it  necessarily  meant  love?  Might 
it  not  have  sprung  from  a  sudden  desperate  resolu- 


218  THE  AMETHYST  BOX 

tion  to  accept  a  devotion  which  offered  her  a  way  out 
of  difficulties  especially  galling  to  one  of  her  gentle 
but  lofty  spirit?  Her  expression  when  she  caught 
my  look  of  joy  had  little  of  the  demure  tenderness  of 
a  maiden  blushing  at  her  first  involuntary  avowal. 
There  was  shrinking  in  it,  but  it  was  the  shrinking 
of  a  frightened  woman,  not  of  an  abashed  girl; 
and  when  I  strove  to  follow  her,  the  gesture  with 
which  she  waved  me  back  had  that  in  it  which  would 
have  alarmed  a  more  exacting  lover.  Had  I  mis- 
taken my  darling's  feelings?  Was  her  heart  still 
cold,  her  affection  unwon?  Or — thought  insupport- 
able ! — had  she  secretly  yielded  to  another  what  she 
had  so  long  denied  me,  and ? 

"  Ah !  "  quoth  Sinclair  at  this  juncture,  "  I  see  that 
I  have  roused  you  at  last."  And  unconsciously  his 
tone  grew  lighter  and  his  eye  lost  the  strained  look 
which  had  made  it  the  eye  of  a  stranger.  "  You 
begin  to  see  that  a  question  of  the  most  serious  im- 
port is  before  us,  and  that  this  question  must  be 
answered  before  we  separate  for  the  night." 

"  I  do,"  said  I. 

His  relief  was  evident. 

"  Then,  so  much  is  gained.  The  next  point  is, 
how  are  we  to  settle  our  doubts?  We  cannot  ap- 
proach either  of  these  ladies  with  questions.  A  girl 
wretched  enough  to  contemplate  suicide  would  be 
especially  careful  to  conceal  both  her  misery  and  its 
cause.  Neither  can  we  order  a  search  to  be  made 
for  an  object  so  small  that  it  can  be  concealed  about 
the  person." 


THE  AMETHYST  BOX  219 

"  Yet  this  jewel  must  be  recovered.  Listen,  Sin- 
clair. I  will  have  a  talk  with  Dorothy,  you  with 
Gilbertine.  A  kind  talk,  mind  you!  one  that  will 
soothe,  not  frighten.  If  a  secret  lurks  in  either 
breast,  our  tenderness  should  find  it  out.  Only,  as 
you  love  me,  promise  to  show  me  the  same  frank- 
ness I  here  promise  to  show  you.  Dear  as  Dorothy 
is  to  me,  I  swear  to  communicate  to  you  the  full 
result  of  my  conversation  with  her,  whatever  the 
cost  to  myself  or  even  to  her." 

"  And  I  will  be  equally  fair  as  regards  Gilbertine. 
But  before  we  proceed  to  such  extreme  measures 
let  us  make  sure  that  there  is  no  shorter  road  to  the 
truth.  Some  one  may  have  seen  which  of  our  two 
dear  girls  went  back  to  the  library  after  we  all  came 
out  of  it.  That  would  narrow  down  our  inquiry, 
and  save  one  of  them,  at  least,  from  unnecessary 
disturbance." 

It  was  a  happy  thought,  and  I  told  him  so,  but 
at  the  same  time  bade  him  look  in  the  glass  and  see 
how  impossible  it  would  be  for  him  to  venture  below 
without  creating  an  alarm  which  might  precipitate 
the  dread  event  we  both  feared. 

He  replied  by  drawing  me  to  his  side  before  the 
mirror  and  pointing  to  my  own  face.  It  was  as  pale 
as  his  own. 

Most  disagreeably  impressed  by  this  self-betrayal,. 
I  coloured  deeply  under  Sinclair's  eye,  and  was  but 
little,  if  any,  relieved  when  I  noticed  that  he  coloured 
under  mine.  For  his  feelings  were  no  enigma  to 
me.  Naturally,  he  was  glad  to  discover  that  I  shared 


220  THE  AMETHYST  BOX 

his  apprehensions,  since  it  gave  him  leave  to  hope 
that  the  blow  he  so  dreaded  was  not  necessarily 
directed  toward  his  own  affections.  ,Yet,  being  a 
generous  fellow,  he  blushed  to  be  detected  in  his 
egotism,  while  I — well,  I  own  that  at  that  moment 
I  should  have  felt  a  very  unmixed  joy  at  being  as- 
sured that  the  foundations  of  my  own  love  were 
secure,  and  that  the  tiny  flask  Sinclair  had  missed 
had  not  been  taken  by  the  hand  of  her  upon  whom 
I  depended  for  all  my  earthly  happiness. 

And  my  wedding-day  was  as  yet  a  vague  and 
distant  hope,  while  his  was  set  for  the  morrow. 

"  We  must  carry  downstairs  very  different  faces 
from  these,"  he  remarked,  "  or  we  shall  be  stopped 
before  we  reach  the  library." 

I  made  an  effort  at  composure,  so  did  he;  and 
both  being  determined  men,  we  soon  found  our- 
selves in  a  condition  to  descend  among  our  friends 
without  attracting  any  closer  attention  than  was  natu- 
rally due  to  him  as  prospective  bridegroom  and  to 
myself  as  best  man. 

II 

BEATON'S  DREAM 

Mrs.  Armstrong,  our  hostess,  was  fond  of  gaiety, 
and  amusements  were  never  lacking.  As  we  stepped 
down  into  the  great  hall  we  heard  music  in  the 
drawing-room,  and  saw  that  a  dance  was  in  prog- 
ress. 


THE  AMETHYST  BOX  221 

"  That  is  good,"  observed  Sinclair.  "  We  shall 
run  less  risk  of  finding  the  library  occupied." 

"  Shall  I  not  look  and  see  where  the  girls  are? 
It  would  be  a  great  relief  to  find  them  both  among 
the  dancers." 

"  Yes,"  said  he;  "  but  don't  allow  yourself  to  be 
inveigled  into  joining  them.  I  could  not  stand  the 
suspense." 

I  nodded,  and  slipped  toward  the  drawing-room. 
He  remained  in  the  bay-window  overlooking  the 
terrace. 

A  rush  of  young  people  greeted  me  as  soon  as  I 
showed  myself.  But  I  was  able  to  elude  them,  and 
catch  the  one  full  glimpse  I  wanted  of  the  great 
room  beyond.  It  was  a  magnificent  apartment,  and 
so  brilliantly  lighted  that  every  nook  stood  revealed. 
On  a  divan  near  the  centre  was  a  lady  conversing 
with  two  gentlemen.  Her  back  was  toward  me,  but 
I  had  no  difficulty  in  recognising  Miss  Murray. 
Some  distance  from  her,  but  with  her  face  also  turned 
away,  stood  Dorothy.  She  was  talking  with  an 
unmarried  friend,  and  appeared  quite  at  ease  and 
more  than  usually  cheerful. 

Relieved,  yet  sorry  that  I  had  not  succeeded  in 
catching  a  glimpse  of  their  faces,  I  hastened  back  to 
Sinclair,  who  was  watching  me  with  furtive  eyes 
from  between  the  curtains  of  the  window  in  which 
he  had  secreted  himself.  As  I  joined  him  a  young 
man,  who  was  to  act  as  usher,  sauntered  from  be- 
hind one  of  the  great  pillars  forming  a  colonnade 
down  the  hall,  and,  crossing  to  where  the  music- 


222  THE  AMETHYST  BOX 

room  door  stood  invitingly  open,  disappeared  behind 
it  with  the  air  of  a  man  perfectly  contented  with  his 
surroundings. 

With  a  nervous  grip  Sinclair  seized  me  by  the  arm. 

"  Was  that  Beaton?  "  he  asked. 

"  Certainly;  didn't  you  recognise  him?  " 

He  gave  me  a  very  strange  look. 

"  Does  the  sight  of  him  recall  anything?  " 

"  No." 

"  You  were  at  the  breakfast-table  yesterday  morn- 
ing? " 

"  I  was." 

"  Do  you  remember  the  dream  he  related  for  the 
delectation  of  such  as  would  listen?" 

Then  it  was  my  turn  to  go  white. 

"  You  don't  mean "  I  began. 

"  I  thought  at  the  time  that  it  sounded  more  like 
a  veritable  adventure  than  a  dream;  now  I  am  sure 
that  it  was  such." 

"  Sinclair!  You  do  not  mean  that  the  young  girl 
he  professed  himself  to  have  surprised  one  moonlit 
night  standing  on  the  verge  of  the  cliff,  with  arms 
upstretched  and  a  distracted  air,  was  a  real  per- 
son?" 

"  I  do.  We  laughed  at  the  time;  he  made  it  seem 
so  tragic  and  preposterous.  I  do  not  feel  like  laugh- 
ing now." 

I  gazed  at  Sinclair  in  horror.  The  music  was 
throbbing  in  our  ears,  and  the  murmur  of  gay  voices 
and  swiftly-moving  feet  suggested  nothing  but  joy 
and  hilarity.  Which  was  the  dream?  This  scene 


THE  AMETHYST  BOX  223 

of  seeming  mirth  and  happy  promise,  or  the  fancies 
he  had  conjured  up  to  rob  us  both  of  peace? 

44  Beaton  mentioned  no  names,"  I  stubbornly  pro- 
tested. "  He  did  not  even  call  the  vision  he 
encountered  a  woman.  It  was  a  wraith,  you  re- 
member, a  dream-maiden,  a  creature  of  his  own 
imagination,  born  of  some  tragedy  he  had  read." 

44  Beaton  is  a  gentleman,"  was  Sinclair's  cold 
reply.  "  He  did  not  wish  to  injure,  but  to  warn 
the  woman  for  whose  benefit  he  told  his  tale." 

"Warn?" 

44  He  doubtless  reasoned  in  this  way:  If  he  could 
make  this  young  and  probably  sensitive  girl  realise 
that  she  had  been  seen  and  her  intentions  recog- 
nised, she  would  beware  of  such  attempts  in  the 
future.  He  is  a  kind-hearted  fellow.  Did  you  notice 
which  end  of  the  table  he  ignored  when  relating  this 
dramatic  episode?  " 

"  No." 

"  If  you  had  we  might  be  better  able  to  judge 
where  his  thoughts  were.  Probably  you  cannot  even 
tell  how  the  ladies  took  it?  " 

44  No,  I  never  thought  of  looking.  Good  God, 
Sinclair,  don't  let  us  harrow  up  ourselves  unneces- 
sarily! I  saw  them  both  a  moment  ago,  and  nothing 
in  their  manner  showed  that  anything  was  amiss 
with  either  of  them." 

For  answer  he  drew  me  toward  the  library. 

This  room  was  not  frequented  by  the  young  peo- 
ple at  night.  There  were  two  or  three  elderly  people 
in  the  party,  notably  the  husband  and  the  brother  of 


224  THE  AMETHYST  BOX 

the  lady  of  the  house,  and  to  their  use  the  room  was 
more  or  less  given  up  after  nightfall.  Sinclair  wished 
to  show  me  the  cabinet  where  the  box  had  been. 

There  was  a  fire  in  the  grate,  for  the  evenings 
were  now  more  or  less  chilly.  When  the  door  had 
closed  behind  us  we  found  that  this  fire  supplied 
all  the  light  there  was  in  the  room.  Both  gas  jets 
had  been  put  out,  and  the  rich  yet  homelike  room 
glowed  with  ruddy  hues,  interspersed  with  great 
shadows.  A  solitary  scene,  yet  an  enticing  one. 

Sinclair  drew  a  deep  breath.  "  Mr.  Armstrong 
must  have  gone  elsewhere  to  read  the  evening 
papers,"  he  remarked. 

I  replied  by  casting  a  scrutinising  look  into  the 
corners.  I  dreaded  finding  a  pair  of  lovers  hid 
somewhere  in  the  many  nooks  made  by  the  jutting 
bookcases.  But  I  saw  no  one.  However,  at  the 
other  end  of  the  large  room  there  stood  a  screen 
near  one  of  the  many  lounges,  and  I  was  on  the  point 
of  approaching  this  place  of  concealment  when  Sin- 
clair drew  me  toward  a  tall  cabinet  upon  whose  glass 
doors  the  firelight  was  shimmering,  and,  pointing  to 
a  shelf  far  above  our  heads,  cried: 

"  No  woman  could  reach  that  unaided.  Gilbertine 
is  tall,  but  not  tall  enough  for  that.  I  purposely  put 
it  high." 

I  looked  about  for  a  stool.  There  was  one  just 
behind  Sinclair.  I  drew  his  attention  to  it. 

He  flushed  and  gave  it  a  kick,  then  shivered 
slightly  and  sat  down  in  a  chair  nearby.  I  knew 
what  he  was  thinking.  Gilbertine  was  taller  than 


THE  AMETHYST  BOX  225 

Dorothy.  This  stool  might  have  served  Gilbertine, 
if  not  Dorothy. 

I  felt  a  great  sympathy  for  him.  After  all,  his 
case  was  more  serious  than  mine.  The  Bishop  was 
coming  to  marry  him  the  next  day. 

"  Sinclair,"  said  I,  "  the  stool  means  nothing. 
Dorothy  has  more  inches  than  you  think.  With 
this  under  her  feet,  she  could  reach  the  shelf  by 
standing  tiptoe.  Besides,  there  are  the  chairs." 

"  True,  true !  "  and  he  started  up;  "  there  are  the 
chairs!  I  forgot  the  chairs.  I  fear  my  wits  have 
gone  wool-gathering.  We  shall  have  to  take  others 
into  our  confidence."  Here  his  voice  fell  to  a 
whisper.  "  Somehow  or  by  some  means  we  must 
find  out  if  either  of  them  was  seen  to  come  into  this 
room." 

"  Leave  that  to  me,"  said  I.  "  Remember  that  a 
word  might  raise  suspicion,  and  that  in  a  case  like 
this Halloa,  what's  that?  " 

A  gentle  snore  had  come  from  behind  the  screen. 

"  We  are  not  alone,"  I  whispered.  "  Some  one  is 
over  there  on  the  lounge." 

Sinclair  had  already  bounded  across  the  room.  I 
pressed  hurriedly  behind  him,  and  together  we 
rounded  the  screen  and  came  upon  the  recumbent 
figure  of  Mr.  Armstrong,  asleep  on  the  lounge,  with 
his  paper  fallen  from  his  hand. 

"  That  accounts  for  the  lights  being  turned  out," 
grumbled  Sinclair.  "  Dutton  must  have  done 
it." 

Dutton  was  the  butler. 


226  THE  AMETHYST  BOX 

I  stood  contemplating  the  sleeping  figure  before 
me. 

"  He  must  have  been  lying  here  for  some  time," 
I  muttered. 

Sinclair  started. 

"  Probably  some  little  while  before  he  slept/'  I 
pursued.  "  I  have  often  heard  that  he  dotes  on  the 
firelight." 

"  I  have  a  notion  to  wake  him,"  suggested  Sinclair. 

41  It  will  not  be  necessary,"  said  I,  drawing  back, 
as  the  heavy  figure  stirred,  breathed  heavily,  and 
finally  sat  up. 

"  I  beg  pardon,"  I  now  entreated,  backing  politely 
away.  "  We  thought  the  room  empty." 

Mr.  Armstrong,  who,  if  slow  to  receive  impres- 
sions, is  far  from  lacking  intelligence,  eyed  us  with 
sleepy  indifference  for  a  moment,  then  rose  pon- 
derously to  his  feet,  and  was  on  the  instant  the  man 
of  manner  and  unfailing  courtesy  we  had  ever  found 
him. 

"What  can  I  do  to  oblige  you?"  he  asked,  his 
smooth,  if  hesitating,  tones  sounding  strange  to  our 
excited  ears. 

I  made  haste  to  forestall  Sinclair,  who  was  racking 
his  brains  for  words  with  which  to  propound  the 
question  he  dared  not  put  too  boldly. 

"  Pardon  me,  Mr.  Armstrong,  we  were  looking 
about  for  a  small  pin  dropped  by  Miss  Camerden." 
(How  hard  it  was  for  me  to  use  her  name  in  this 
connection  only  my  own  heart  knew.)  "  She  was  in 
here  just  now,  was  she  not?  " 


THE  AMETHYST  BOX  227 

The  courteous  gentleman  bowed,  hemmed,  and 
smiled  a  very  polite  but  unmeaning  smile.  Evi- 
dently he  had  not  the  remotest  notion  whether  she 
had  been  in  or  not. 

u  I  am  sorry,  but  I  am  afraid  I  lost  myself  for 
a  moment  on  that  lounge,"  he  admitted.  "  The  fire- 
light always  makes  me  sleepy.  But  if  I  can  help 
you,"  he  cried,  starting  forward,  but  almost  imme- 
diately pausing  again  and  giving  us  rather  a  curious 
look.  "  Some  one  was  in  the  room.  I  remember  it 
now.  It  was  just  before  the  warmth  and  glow  of 
the  fire  became  too  much  for  me.  I  cannot  say  that 
it  was  Miss  Camerden,  however.  I  thought  it  was 
some  one  of  quicker  movement.  She  made  quite  a 
rattle  with  the  chairs." 

I  purposely  did  not  look  back  at  Sinclair. 

"  Miss  Murray?  "  I  suggested. 

Mr.  Armstrong  made  one  of  his  low,  old- 
fashioned  bows.  This,  I  doubt  not,  was  out  of 
deference  to  the  bride-to-be. 

"  Does  Miss  Murray  wear  white  to-night?  " 

"  Yes,"  muttered  Sinclair,  coming  hastily  forward. 

"  Then  it  may  have  been  she,  for  as  I  lay  there 
deciding  whether  or  not  to  yield  to  the  agreeable 
somnolence  I  felt  creeping  over  me,  I  caught  a 
glimpse  of  the  lady's  skirt  as  she  passed  out. 
And  that  skirt  was  white — white  silk  I  suppose  you 
call  it.  It  looked  very  pretty  in  the  firelight." 

Sinclair,  turning  on  his  heel,  stalked  in  a  dazed 
way  toward  the  door.  To  cover  this  show  of 
abruptness,  which  was  quite  unusual  on  his  part, 


228  THE  AMETHYST  BOX 

I  made  the  effort  of  my  life,  and,  remarking  lightly, 
"  She  must  have  been  here  looking  for  the  pin  her 
friend  has  lost,"  I  launched  forth  into  an  impromptu 
dissertation  on  one  of  the  subjects  I  knew  to  be 
dear  to  the  heart  of  the  bookworm  before  me — and 
kept  it  up,  too,  till  I  saw  by  his  brightening  eye 
and  suddenly  freed  manner  that  he  had  forgotten 
the  insignificant  episode  of  a  minute  ago,  never  in 
all  probability  to  recall  it  again.  Then  I  made 
another  effort,  and  released  myself  with  something 
like  deftness  from  the  long-drawn-out  argument  I 
saw  impending,  and  making  for  the  door  in  my 
turn,  glanced  about  for  Sinclair.  So  far  as  I  was 
concerned  the  question  as  to  who  had  taken  the  box 
from  the  library  was  settled. 

It  was  now  half-past  eight.  I  made  my  way  from 
room  to  room  and  from  group  to  group  looking  for 
Sinclair.  At  last  I  returned  to  my  old  post  near  the 
library  door,  and  was  instantly  rewarded  by  the 
sight  of  his  figure  approaching  from  a  small  side- 
passage  in  company  with  the  butler,  Dutton.  His 
face,  as  he  stepped  into  the  full  light  of  the  open 
hall,  showed  discomposure,  but  not  the  extreme  dis- 
tress I  had  anticipated.  Somehow,  at  sight  of  it, 
I  found  myself  seeking  the  shadow  just  as  he  had 
done  a  short  time  before,  and  it  was  in  one  of 
the  recesses  made  by  a  row  of  bay-trees  that  we 
came  face  to  face. 

He  gave  me  one  look,  then  his  eyes  dropped. 

"  Miss  Camerden  has  lost  a  pin  from  her  hair," 
he  impressively  explained  to  me.  Then,  turning  to 


THE  AMETHYST  BOX  229 

Button,  he  nonchalantly  remarked:  "It  must  be 
somewhere  in  this  hall;  perhaps  you  will  be  good 
enough  to  look  for  it." 

"  Certainly,"  replied  the  man.  u  I  thought  she 
had  lost  something  when  I  saw  her  come  out  of  the 
library  a  little  while  ago,  holding  her  hand  to  her 
hair." 

My  heart  gave  a  leap,  then  sank  cold  and  almost 
pulseless  in  my  breast.  In  the  hum  to  which  all 
sounds  had  sunk,  I  heard  Sinclair's  voice  rise  again 
in  the  question  with  which  my  own  mind  was  full. 

"When  was  that?  After  Mr.  Armstrong  went 
into  the  room,  or  before?  " 

"  Oh,  after  he  fell  asleep.  I  had  just  come  from 
putting  out  the  gas  when  I  saw  Miss  Camerden  slip 
in  and  almost  immediately  come  out  again.  I  will 
search  for  the  pin  very  carefully,  sir." 

So  Mr.  Armstrong  had  made  a  mistake !  It  was 
Dorothy,  and  not  Gilbertine,  whom  he  had  seen 
leaving  the  room.  I  braced  myself  up  and  met  Sin- 
clair's eye. 

"  Dorothy's  dress  is  grey  to-night;  but  Mr.  Arm- 
strong's eye  may  not  be  very  good  for  colours." 

"  It  is  possible  that  both  were  in  the  room,"  was 
Sinclair's  reply.  But  I  could  see  that  he  advanced 
this  theory  solely  out  of  consideration  for  me;  that 
he  did  not  really  believe  it.  "At  all  events,"  he 
went  on,  "we  cannot  prove  anything  this  way;  we 
must  revert  to  our  original  idea.  I  wonder  if  Gil- 
bertine will  give  me  the  chance  to  speak  to  her." 

"  You  will  have  an  easier  task  than  I,"  was  my 


230  THE  AMETHYST  BOX 

half-sullen  retort.  "  If  Dorothy  perceives  that  I 
wish  to  approach  her,  she  has  but  to  lift  her  eyes 
to  any  of  the  half-dozen  fellows  here,  and  the  thing 
becomes  impossible." 

"  There  is  to  be  a  rehearsal  of  the  ceremony  at 
half-past  ten.  I  might  get  a  word  in  then ;  only, 
this  matter  must  be  settled  first.  I  could  never  go 
through  the  farce  of  standing  up  before  you  all 
at  Gilbertine's  side,  with  such  a  doubt  as  this  in  my 
mind." 

"  You  will  see  her  before  then.  Insist  on  a  mo- 
ment's talk.  If  she  refuses " 

"  Hush !  "  he  here  put  in.  "  We  part  now  to  meet 
in  this  same  place  again  at  ten.  Do  I  look  fit  to 
enter  among  the  dancers?  I  see  a  whole  group  of 
them  coming  for  me." 

"  You  will  be  in  another  moment.  Approaching 
matrimony  has  made  you  sober,  that's  all." 

It  was  some  time  before  I  had  the  opportunity, 
even  if  I  had  the  courage,  to  look  Dorothy  in  the 
face.  When  the  moment  came  she  was  flushed  with 
dancing  and  looked  beautiful.  Ordinarily  she  was 
a  little  pale,  but  not  even  Gilbertine,  with  her  sumptu- 
ous colouring,  showed  a  warmer  cheek  than  she,  as, 
resting  from  the  waltz,  she  leaned  against  the  rose- 
tinted  wall,  and  let  her  eyes  for  the  first  time  rise 
slowly  to  where  I  stood  talking  mechanically  to  my 
partner. 

Gentle  eyes  they  were,  made  for  appeal,  and  elo- 
quent with  a  subdued  heart  language.  But  they 
were  held  in  check  by  an  infinite  discretion.  Never 


THE  AMETHYST  BOX  231 

have  I  caught  them  quite  off  their  guard,  and  to- 
night they  were  wholly  unreadable.  Yet  she  was 
trembling  with  something  more  than  the  fervour  of 
the  dance,  and  the  little  hand  which  had  touched 
mine  in  lingering  pressure  a  few  hours  before  was 
not  quiet  for  a  moment.  I  could  not  see  it  flutter- 
ing in  and  out  of  the  folds  of  her  smoke-coloured 
dress  without  a  sickening  wonder  if  the  little  purple 
box  which  was  the  cause  of  my  horror  lay  some- 
where concealed  amid  the  airy  puffs  and  ruffles  that 
rose  and  fell  so  rapidly  over  her  heaving  breast. 
Could  her  eye  rest  on  mine,  even  in  this  cold  and 
perfunctory  manner,  if  the  drop  which  could  sepa- 
rate us  for  ever  lay  concealed  over  her  heart?  She 
knew  that  I  loved  her.  From  the  first  hour  we  met 
in  her  aunt's  forbidding  parlour  in  Thirty-sixth 
Street  she  had  recognised  my  passion,  however  per- 
fectly I  had  succeeded  in  concealing  it  from  others. 
Inexperienced  as  she  was  in  those  days,  she  had  noted 
as  quickly  as  any  society  belle  the  effect  produced 
upon  me  by  her  chill  prettiness  and  her  air  of  meek 
reserve,  under  which  one  felt  the  heart  break;  and 
though  she  would  never  openly  acknowledge  my 
homage,  and  frowned  down  every  attempt  on  my 
part  at  lover-like  speech  or  attention,  I  was  as  sure 
that  she  rated  my  feelings  at  their  real  value  as  that 
she  was  the  dearest,  yet  most  incomprehensible,  mor- 
tal my  narrow  world  contained.  When,  therefore,  I 
encountered  her  eyes  at  the  end  of  the  dance,  I  said 
to  myself: 

"  She  may  not  love  me,  but  she  knows  that  I  love 


232  THE  AMETHYST  BOX 

her,  and,  being  a  woman  of  sympathetic  instincts, 
would  never  meet  my  eyes  with  so  calm  a  look  if 
she  were  meditating  an  act  which  must  infallibly 
plunge  me  into  misery." 

Yet  I  was  not  satisfied  to  go  away  without  a  word. 
So,  taking  the  bull  by  the  horns,  I  excused  myself  to 
my  partner,  and  crossed  to  Dorothy's  side. 

"Will  you  dance  the  next  waltz  with  me?"  I 
asked. 

Her  eyes  fell  from  mine  directly,  and  she  drew 
back  in  a  way  that  suggested  flight. 

"  I  shall  dance  no  more  to-night,"  said  she,  her 
hand  rising  in  its  nervous  fashion  to  her  hair. 

I  made  no  appeal.  I  just  watched  that  hand, 
whereupon  she  flushed  vividly,  and  seemed  more  than 
ever  -anxious  to  escape.  At  which  I  spoke  again. 

"  Give  me  a  chance,  Dorothy.  If  you  will  not 
dance,  come  out  on  the  veranda  and  look  at  the 
ocean.  It  is  glorious  to-night.  I  will  not  keep  you 
long.  The  lights  here  trouble  my  eyes;  besides,  I 
am  most  anxious  to  ask  you " 

"  No,  no,"  she  vehemently  objected,  very  much  as 
if  frightened.  "  I  cannot  leave  the  drawing-room — 
do  not  ask  me !  Seek  some  other  partner — do,  to- 
night." 

"You  wish  it?" 

"  Very  much." 

She  was  panting,  eager.  I  felt  my  heart  sink,  and 
dreaded  lest  I  should  betray  my  feelings. 

"  You  do  not  honour  me,  then,  with  your  regard," 
I  retorted,  bowing  ceremoniously  as  I  became  as- 


THE  AMETHYST  BOX  233 

sured  that  we  were  attracting  more  attention  than  I 
considered  desirable. 

She  was  silent.  Her  hand  went  again  to  her 
hair. 

I  changed  my  tone.  Quietly,  but  with  an  emphasis 
which  moved  her  in  spite  of  herself,  I  whispered: 
"  If  I  leave  you  now,  will  you  tell  me  to-morrow 
why  you  are  so  peremptory  with  me  to-night?  " 

With  an  eagerness  which  was  anything  but  en- 
couraging, she  answered,  almost  gaily : 

"  Yes,  yes,  after  all  this  excitement  is  over." 

And  slipping  her  hand  into  that  of  a  friend  who 
was  passing,  she  was  soon  in  the  whirl  again  and 
dancing — she  who  had  just  assured  me  that  she  did 
not  mean  to  dance  again  that  night. 


Ill 

A  SCREAM  IN  THE  NIGHT 

I  turned  and,  hardly  conscious  of  my  actions, 
stumbled  from  the  room.  A  bevy  of  young  people 
at  once  surrounded  me.  What  I  said  to  them  I 
hardly  know.  I  only  remember  that  it  was  several 
minutes  before  I  found  myself  again  alone  and  mak- 
ing for  the  little  room  into  which  Beaton  had  van- 
ished a  half-hour  before.  It  was  the  one  given  up 
to  card-playing.  Did  I  expect  to  find  him  seated  at 
one  of  the  tables?  Possibly;  at  all  events,  I  ap- 
proached the  doorway,  and  was  about  to  enter, 


234  THE  AMETHYST  BOX 

when  a  heavy  step  shook  the  threshold  before  me, 
and  I  found  myself  confronted  by  the  advancing 
figure  of  an  elderly  lady,  whose  portrait  it  is  now 
time  for  me  to  draw.  It  is  no  pleasurable  task,  but 
one  I  cannot  escape. 

Imagine,  then,  a  broad,  weighty  woman  of  not 
much  height,  with  a  face  whose  features  were  usually 
forgotten  in  the  impression  made  by  her  great  cheeks 
and  falling  jowls.  If  the  small  eyes  rested  on  you, 
you  found  them  sinister  and  strange,  but  if  they 
were  turned  elsewhere,  you  asked  in  what  lay  the 
power  of  the  face,  and  sought  in  vain  amid  its  long 
wrinkles  and  indeterminate  lines  for  the  secret  of 
that  spiritual  and  bodily  repulsion  which  the  least 
look  into  this  impassive  countenance  was  calculated 
to  produce.  She  was  a  woman  of  immense  means, 
and  an  oppressive  consciousness  of  this  spoke  in  every 
movement  of  her  heavy  frame,  which  always  seemed 
to  take  up  three  times  as  much  space  as  rightfully 
belonged  to  any  human  creature.  Add  to  this  that 
she  was  seldom  seen  without  a  display  of  diamonds 
which  made  her  broad  bust  look  like  the  bejewelled 
breast  of  some  Eastern  idol,  and  some  idea  may  be 
formed  of  this  redoubtable  woman  whom  I  have 
hitherto  confined  myself  to  speaking  of  as  the 
gorgon. 

The  stare  she  gave  me  had  something  venomous 
and  threatening  in  it.  Evidently  for  the  moment  I 
was  out  of  her  books,  and  while  I  did  not  under- 
stand in  what  way  I  had  displeased  her,  for  we 
always  had  met  amicably  before,  I  seized  upon  this 


THE  AMETHYST  BOX  235 

sign  of  displeasure  on  her  part  as  explanatory,  per- 
haps, of  the  curtness  and  show  of  contradictory 
feelings  on  the  part  of  her  dependent  niece.  Yet 
why  should  the  old  woman  frown  on  me?  I  had 
been  told  more  than  once  that  she  regarded  me  with 
great  favour.  Had  I  unwittingly  done  something 
to  displease  her,  or  had  the  game  of  cards  she  had 
just  left  gone  against  her,  ruffling  her  temper  and 
making  it  imperative  for  her  to  choose  some  object 
on  which  to  vent  her  spite  ?  I  entered  the  room  to 
see.  Two  men  and  one  woman  stood  in  rather  an 
embarrassed  silence  about  a  table  on  which  lay  some 
cards,  which  had  every  appearance  of  having  been 
thrown  down  by  an  impatient  hand.  One  of  the 
men  was  Will  Beaton,  and  it  was  he  who  now  re- 
marked : 

"  She  has  just  found  out  that  the  young  people  are 
enjoying  themselves.  I  wonder  upon  which  of  her 
two  unfortunate  nieces  she  will  expend  her  ill-temper 
to-night." 

"  Oh,  there's  no  question  about  that,"  remarked 
the  lady  who  stood  near  him.  "  Ever  since  she  has 
had  a  reasonable  prospect  of  working  Gilbertine  off 
her  hands,  she  has  devoted  herself  quite  exclusively 
to  her  remaining  burden.  I  hear,"  she  impulsively 
continued,  craning  her  neck  to  be  sure  that  the  object 
of  her  remarks  was  quite  out  of  earshot,  "  that  the 
south  hall  was  blue  to-day  with  the  talk  she  gave 
Dorothy  Camerden.  No  one  knows  what  about, 
for  the  girl  evidently  tries  to  please  her.  But  some 
women  have  more  than  their  own  proper  share  of 


236  THE  AMETHYST  BOX 

bile;  they  must  expend  it  on  some  one."  And  she  in 
turn  threw  down  her  cards,  which  up  till  now  she  had 
held  in  her  hand. 

I  gave  Beaton  a  look  and  stepped  out  on  the 
veranda.  In  a  minute  he  followed  me,  and  in  the 
corner  facing  the  ocean,  where  the  vines  cluster  the 
thickest,  we  held  our  conversation. 

I  began  it,  with  a  directness  born  of  my  despera- 
tion. 

"  Beaton,"  said  I,  "  we  have  not  known  each  other 
long,  but  I  recognise  a  man  when  I  see  him,  and  I 
am  disposed  to  be  frank  with  you.  I  am  in  trouble. 
My  affections  are  engaged,  deeply  engaged,  in  a 
quarter  where  I  find  some  mystery.  You  have  helped 
make  it."  (Here  a  gesture  escaped  him.)  "  I  allude 
to  the  story  you  related  the  other  morning  of  the 
young  girl  you  had  seen  hanging  over  the  verge  of 
the  cliff,  with  every  appearance  of  intending  to  throw 
herself  over." 

"  It  was  as  a  dream  I  related  that,"  he  gravely 
remarked. 

"  That  I  am  aware  of.  But  it  was  no  dream  to 
me,  Beaton.  I  fear  I  know  that  young  girl;  I  also 
fear  that  I  know  what  drove  her  into  contemplating 
so  rash  an  act.  The  conversation  just  held  in  the 
card-room  should  enlighten  you.  Beaton,  am  I 
wrong?  " 

The  feeling  I  could  not  suppress  trembled  in  my 
tones.  He  may  have  been  sensitive  to  it,  or  he 
may  have  been  simply  good-natured.  Whatever  the 
cause,  this  is  what  he  said  in  reply: 


THE  AMETHYST  BOX  237 

"  It  was  a  dream.  Remember  that  I  insist  upon 
its  being  a  dream.  But  some  of  its  details  are  very 
clear  in  my  mind.  When  I  stumbled  upon  this 
dream-maiden  in  the  moonlight  her  face  was  turned 
from  me  toward  the  ocean,  and  I  did  not  see  her 
features  then  or  afterwards.  Startled  by  some  sound 
I  made,  she  crouched,  drew  back,  and  fled  to  cover. 
That  cover,  I  have  good  reason  to  believe,  was  this 
very  house." 

I  reached  out  my  hand  and  touched  him  on  the 
arm. 

"  This  dream-maiden  was  a  woman?  "  I  inquired. 
"  One  of  the  women  now  in  this  house?  " 

He  replied  reluctantly: 

"  She  was  a  young  woman,  and  she  wore  a  long 
cloak.  My  dream  ends  there.  I  cannot  even  say 
whether  she  was  fair  or  dark." 

I  recognised  that  he  had  reached  the  limit  of  his 
explanations,  and,  wringing  his  hand,  I  started  for 
the  nearest  window,  which  proved  to  be  that  of  the 
music-room.  I  was  about  to  enter  when  I  saw  two 
women  crossing  to  the  opposite  doorway,  and  paused 
with  a  full  heart  to  note  them,  for  one  was  Mrs. 
Lansing  and  the  other  Dorothy.  The  aunt  had 
evidently  come  for  the  niece,  and  they  were  leaving 
the  room  together.  Not  amicably,  however.  Harsh 
words  had  passed,  or  I  am  no  judge  of  the  human 
countenance.  Dorothy  especially  bore  herself  like 
one  who  finds  difficulty  in  restraining  herself  from 
some  unhappy  outburst,  and  as  she  disappeared 
from  my  sight  in  the  wake  of  her  formidable  com- 


238  THE  AMETHYST  BOX 

panion  my  attention  was  again  called  to  her  hands, 
which  she  held  clenched  at  her  sides. 

I  was  stepping  into  the  room  when  my  impulse 
was  again  checked.  Another  person  was  sitting 
there,  a  person  I  had  been  most  anxious  to  see  ever 
since  my  last  interview  with  Sinclair.  It  was  Gil- 
bertine  Murray,  sitting  alone  in  an  attitude  of  deep, 
and  possibly  not  altogether  happy  thought. 

I  paused  to  study  the  sweet  face.  Truly  she  was 
a  beautiful  woman.  I  had  never  before  realised  how 
beautiful.  Her  rich  colouring,  her  noble  traits,  and 
the  spirited  air  which  gave  her  such  marked  dis- 
tinction, bespoke  at  once  an  ardent  nature  and  a 
pure  soul. 

I  did  not  wonder  that  Sinclair  had  succumbed  to 
charms  so  pronounced  and  uncommon,  and  as  I 
gazed  longer  and  noted  the  tremulous  droop  of  her 
ripe  lips  and  the  far-away  look  of  eyes  which  had 
created  a  great  stir  in  the  social  world  when  they 
first  flashed  upon  it,  I  felt  that  if  Sinclair  could  see 
her  now  he  would  never  doubt  her  again,  despite  the 
fact  that  the  attitude  into  which  she  had  fallen  was 
one  of  great  fatigue,  if  not  despondency. 

She  held  a  fan  in  her  hand,  and  as  I  stood  looking 
at  her  she  dropped  it.  As  she  stooped  to  pick  it  up 
her  eyes  met  mine,  and  a  startling  change  passed 
over  her.  Springing  up,  she  held  out  her  hands  in 
wordless  appeal,  then  let  them  drop  again  as  if  con- 
scious that  I  would  not  be  likely  to  understand  either 
herself  or  her  mood.  She  was  very  beautiful. 

Entering  the  room,  I  approached  her.    Had  Sin- 


THE  AMETHYST  BOX  239 

clair  managed  to  have  his  little  conversation  with 
her?  Something  must  have  happened,  for  never 
had  I  seen  her  in  such  a  state  of  suppressed  excite- 
ment, and  I  had  seen  her  many  times,  both  here  and 
in  her  aunt's  house  when  I  was  visiting  Dorothy. 
Her  eyes  were  shining,  not  with  a  brilliant,  but  a 
soft  light,  and  the  smile  with  which  she  met  my  ad- 
vance had  something  in  it  strangely  tremulous  and 
expectant. 

"  I  am  glad  to  have  a  moment  in  which  to  speak 
to  you  alone,"  I  said.  "  As  Sinclair's  oldest  and 
closest  friend,  I  wish  to  tell  you  how  truly  you  can 
rely  both  on  his  affection  and  esteem.  He  has  an 
infinitely  good  heart." 

She  did  not  answer  as  brightly  and  as  quickly  as 
I  expected.  Something  seemed  to  choke  her — some- 
thing which  she  finally  mastered,  though  only  by  an 
effort  which  left  her  pale,  but  self-contained,  and 
even  more  lovely,  if  that  is  possible,  than  before. 

"  Thank  you,"  she  then  said,  "  my  prospects  are 
very  happy.  No  one  but  myself  knows  how  happy." 

And  she  smiled  again,  but  with  an  expression 
which  recalled  to  my  mind  Sinclair's  fears. 

I  bowed.  Some  one  was  calling  her  name;  evi- 
dently our  interview  was  to  be  short. 

"  I  am  obliged,"  she  murmured.  Then  quickly: 
"  I  have  not  seen  the  moon  to-night.  Is  it  beautiful? 
Can  you  see  it  from  this  veranda?" 

But  before  I  could  answer  she  was  surrounded  and 
dragged  off  by  a  knot  of  young  people,  and  I  was 
left  free  to  keep  my  engagement  with  Sinclair. 


24o  THE  AMETHYST  BOX 

I  did  not  find  him  at  his  post,  nor  could  any  one 
tell  where  he  had  vanished. 

It  was  plain  that  his  conduct  was  looked  upon  as 
strange,  and  I  felt  some  anxiety  lest  it  should  appear 
more  so  before  the  evening  was  over.  I  found  him 
at  last  in  his  room,  sitting  with  his  head  buried  in  his 
arms.  He  started  up  as  I  entered. 

"Well?"  he  asked  sharply. 

"  I  have  learned  nothing  decisive." 

"  Nor  I." 

"  I  exchanged  some  words  with  both  ladies  and  I 
tackled  Beaton;  but  the  matter  remains  just  about 
where  it  was.  It  may  have  been  Dorothy  who  took 
the  box  and  it  may  have  been  Gilbertine.  But  there 
seems  to  be  greater  reason  for  suspecting  Doiothy. 
She  lives  a  terrible  life  with  that  aunt." 

"  And  Gilbertine  is  on  the  point  of  escaping  that 
bondage.  I  know;  I  have  thought  of  that.  Walter, 
you  are  a  generous  fellow;  "  and  for  a  moment  Sin- 
clair looked  relieved.  Before  I  could  speak,  how- 
ever, he  was  sunk  again  in  his  old  despondency. 
"  But  the  doubt,"  he  cried — "  the  doubt !  How  can  I 
go  through  this  rehearsal  with  such  a  doubt  in  my 
mind?  I  cannot  and  will  not.  Go,  tell  them  I 
am  ill,  and  cannot  come  down  again  to-night.  God 
knows  you  will  tell  no  untruth." 

I  saw  that  he  was  quite  beside  himself,  but  ven- 
tured upon  one  remonstrance. 

"  It  will  be  unwise  to  rouse  comment,"  I  said. 
11  If  that  box  was  taken  for  the  death  it  holds,  the 
one  restraint  most  likely  to  act  upon  the  young  girl 


THE  AMETHYST  BOX  241 

who  retains  it  will  be  the  conventionalities  of  her 
position  and  the  requirements  of  the  hour.  Any 
break  in  the  settled  order  of  things — anything  which 
would  give  her  a  moment  by  herself — might  precipi- 
tate the  dreadful  event  we  fear.  Remember,  one 
turn  of  the  hand,  and  all  is  lost.  A  drop  is  quickly 
swallowed." 

"  Frightful !  "  he  murmured,  the  perspiration  ooz- 
ing from  his  forehead.  "  What  a  wedding-eve ! 
And  they  are  laughing  down  there.  Listen  to  them. 
I  even  imagine  I  hear  Gilbertine's  voice.  Is  there 
unconsciousness  in  it,  or  just  the  hilarity  of  a  dis- 
tracted mind  bent  on  self-destruction?  I  cannot  tell; 
the  sound  conveys  no  meaning  to  me." 

"  She  has  a  sweet,  true  face,"  I  said,  "  and  she 
wears  a  very  beautiful  smile  to-night." 

He  sprang  to  his  feet. 

"Yes,  yes — a  smile  that  maddens  me;  a  smile 
that  tells  me  nothing,  nothing!  Walter,  Walter, 
don't  you  see  that,  even  if  that  cursed  box  remains 
unopened,  and  nothing  ever  comes  of  its  theft,  the 
seeds  of  distrust  are  sown  thick  in  my  breast,  and 
I  must  always  ask:  'Was  there  a  moment  when 
my  young  bride  shrank  from  me  enough  to  dream  of 
death?  '  That  is  why  I  cannot  go  through  the  mock- 
ery of  this  rehearsal." 

"  Can  you  go  through  the  ceremony  of  mar- 
riage?" ' 

"  I  must — if  nothing  happens  to-night." 

"And  then?" 

I  spoke  involuntarily.    I  was  thinking  not  of  him, 


242  THE  AMETHYST  BOX 

but  of  myself.  But  he  evidently  found  in  my  words 
an  echo  of  his  own  thought. 

"  Yes,  it  is  the  then,"  he  murmured.  "  Well  may 
a  man  quail  before  that  then." 

He  did  go  downstairs,  however,  and  later  on  went 
through  the  rehearsal  very  much  as  I  had  expected 
him  to  do — quietly  and  without  any  outward  show 
of  emotion. 

As  soon  as  possible  after  this  the  company  sepa- 
rated, Sinclair  making  me  an  imperceptible  gesture 
as  he  went  upstairs.  I  knew  what  it  meant,  and  was 
in  his  room  as  soon  as  the  fellows  who  accompanied 
him  had  left  him  alone. 

"  The  danger  is  from  now  on,"  he  cried,  as  soon 
as  I  had  closed  the  door  behind  me.  "  I  shall  not 
undress  to-night." 

"  Nor  I." 

"  Happily  we  both  have  rooms  by  ourselves  in 
this  great  house.  I  shall  put  out  my  light,  and  then 
open  my  door  as  far  as  need  be.  Not  a  move  in 
the  house  will  escape  me." 

"  I  will  do  the  same." 

"  Gilbertine — God  be  thanked ! — is  not  alone  in 
her  room.  Little  Miss  Lane  shares  it  with 
her." 

"And  Dorothy?" 

"  Oh,  she  is  under  the  strictest  bondage  night  and 
day.  She  sleeps  in  a  little  room  off  her  aunt's.  Do 
you  know  her  door?  " 

I  shook  my  head. 

"  I  will  pass  down  the  hall  and  stop  an  instant  be- 


THE  AMETHYST  BOX  243 

fore  the  two  doors  we  are  most  interested  in.  When 
I  pass  Gilbertine's  I  will  throw  out  my  right 
hand." 

I  stood  on  the  threshold  of  his  room  and  watched 
him.  When  the  two  doors  were  well  fixed  in  my 
mind,  I  went  to  my  own  room  and  prepared  for  my 
self-imposed  watch.  When  quite  ready,  I  put  out  my 
light.  It  was  then  eleven  o'clock. 

The  house  was  very  quiet.  There  had  been  the 
usual  bustle  attending  the  separation  of  a  party  of 
laughing,  chattering  girls  for  the  night;  but  this 
had  not  lasted  long,  for  the  great  doings  of  the 
morrow  called  for  bright  eyes  and  fresh  cheeks,  and 
these  can  only  be  gained  by  sleep.  In  this  stillness 
twelve  o'clock  struck,  and  the  first  hour  of  my 
anxious  vigil  was  at  an  end.  I  thought  of  Sinclair. 
He  had  given  no  token  of  the  watch  he  was  keeping, 
but  I  knew  he  was  sitting  with  his  ear  to  the  door, 
listening  for  the  alarm  which  must  come  soon  if  it 
came  at  all. 

But  would  it  come  at  all?  Were  we  not  wasting 
strength  and  a  great  deal  of  emotion  on  a  dread 
which  had  no  foundation  in  fact?  What  were  we 
two  sensible  and,  as  a  rule,  practical  men  thinking  of, 
that  we  should  ascribe  to  either  of  these  dainty  belles 
of  a  conventional  and  shallow  society  the  wish  to 
commit  a  deed  calling  for  the  vigour  and  daring  of 
some  wilful  child  of  nature?  It  was  not  to  be 
thought  of  in  this  sober,  reasoning  hour.  We  had 
given  ourselves  over  to  a  ghastly  nightmare,  and 
would  yet  awake. 


244  THE  AMETHYST  BOX 

Why  was  I  on  my  feet  ?  Had  I  heard  any- 
thing? 

Yes,  a  stir,  a  very  faint  stir  somewhere  down  the 
hall — the  slow,  cautious  opening  of  a  door,  then  a 
footfall — or  had  I  imagined  the  latter?  I  could  hear 
nothing  now. 

Pushing  open  my  own  door,  I  looked  cautiously 
out.  Only  the  pale  face  of  Sinclair  confronted  me. 
He  was  peering  from  the  corner  of  an  adjacent 
passage-way,  the  moonlight  at  his  back.  Advancing, 
we  met  in  silence.  For  the  moment  we  seemed  to 
be  the  only  persons  awake  in  the  vast  house. 

"  I  thought  I  heard  a  step,"  was  my  cautious 
whisper  after  a  moment  of  intense  listening. 

"Where?" 

I  pointed  toward  that  portion  of  the  house  where 
the  ladies'  rooms  were  situated. 

"  That  is  not  what  I  heard,"  was  his  murmured 
protest;  "what  I  heard  was  a  creak  in  the  small 
stairway  running  down  at  the  end  of  the  hall  where 
my  room  is." 

"  One  of  the  servants,"  I  ventured,  and  for  a 
moment  we  stood  irresolute.  Then  we  both  turned 
rigid  as  some  sound  arose  in  one  of  the  far-off  rooms, 
only  to  quickly  relax  again  as  that  sound  resolved 
itself  into  a  murmur  of  muffled  voices.  Where  there 
was  talking  there  could  be  no  danger  of  the  special 
event  we  feared.  Our  relief  was  so  great  we  both 
smiled.  Next  instant  his  face,  and,  I  have  no  doubt, 
my  own,  turned  the  colour  of  clay,  and  Sinclair  went 
reeling  back  against  the  wall. 


THE  AMETHYST  BOX  245 

A  scream  had  risen  in  this  sleeping  house — a 
piercing  and  insistent  scream  such  as  raises  the  hair 
and  curdles  the  blood. 


IV 

WHAT  SINCLAIR  HAD  TO  TELL  ME 

This  scream  seemed  to  come  from  the  room  where 
we  had  just  heard  voices.  With  a  common  impulse 
Sinclair  and  I  both  started  down  the  hall,  only  to 
find  ourselves  met  by  a  dozen  wild  interrogations 
from  behind  as  many  quickly  opened  doors.  Was 
it  fire?  Had  burglars  got  in?  What  was  the  mat- 
ter? Who  had  uttered  that  dreadful  shriek?  Alas ! 
that  was  the  question  which  we  of  all  men  were  most 
anxious  to  hear  answered.  Who?  Gilbertine  or 
Dorothy? 

Gilbertine's  door  was  reached  first.  In  it  stood  a 
short,  slight  figure,  wrapped  in  a  hastily-donned 
shawl.  The  white  face  looked  into  ours  as  we 
stopped,  and  we  recognised  little  Miss  Lane. 

"  What  has  happened?  "  she  gasped.  "  It  must 
have  been  an  awful  cry  to  waken  everybody  so !  " 

We  never  thought  of  answering  her. 

"Where  is  Gilbertine?"  demanded  Sinclair, 
thrusting  his  hand  out  as  if  to  put  her  aside. 

She  drew  herself  up  with  sudden  dignity. 

"  In  bed,"  she  replied.  "  It  was  she  who  told  me 
that  somebody  had  shrieked.  I  didn't  wake." 


246  THE  AMETHYST  BOX 

Sinclair  uttered  a  sigh  of  the  greatest  relief  that 
ever  burst  from  a  man's  overcharged  breast. 

"  Tell  her  we  will  find  out  what  it  means,"  he 
answered  kindly,  drawing  me  rapidly  away. 

By  this  time  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Armstrong  were 
aroused,  and  I  could  hear  the  slow  and  hesitating 
tones  of  the  former  in  the  passage  behind  us. 

"  Let  us  hasten,"  whispered  Sinclair.  "  Our  eyes 
must  be  the  first  to  see  what  lies  behind  that  partly- 
opened  door." 

I  shivered.  The  door  he  had  designated  was 
Dorothy's. 

Sinclair  reached  it  first  and  pushed  it  open. 
Pressing  up  behind  him,  I  cast  a  fearful  look  over 
his  shoulder.  Only  emptiness  confronted  us.  Doro- 
thy was  not  in  the  little  chamber.  With  an  impulsive 
gesture  Sinclair  pointed  to  the  bed — it  had  not  been 
lain  in — then  to  the  gas — it  was  still  burning.  The 
communicating-room,  in  which  Mrs.  Lansing  slept, 
was  also  lighted,  but  silent  as  the  one  in  which  we 
stood.  This  last  fact  struck  us  as  the  most  in- 
comprehensible of  all.  Mrs.  Lansing  was  not  the 
woman  to  sleep  through  a  disturbance.  Where  was 
she,  then?  And  why  did  we  not  hear  her  strident 
and  aggressive  tones  rising  in  angry  remon- 
strance at  our  intrusion?  Had  she  followed  her 
niece  from  the  room?  Should  we  in  another  minute 
encounter  her  ponderous  figure  in  the  group  of  peo- 
ple we  could  now  hear  hurrying  toward  us?  I  was 
for  retreating  and  hunting  the  house  over  for  Doro- 


THE  AMETHYST  BOX  247 

thy.  But  Sinclair,  with  truer  instinct,  drew  me  across 
the  threshold  of  this  silent  room. 

Well  was  it  for  us  that  we  entered  there  together, 
for  I  do  not  know  how  either  of  us,  weakened  as 
we  were  by  our  forebodings  and  all  the  alarms  of 
this  unprecedented  night,  could  have  borne  alone  the 
sight  that  awaited  us. 

On  the  bed  situated  at  the  right  of  the  doorway 
lay  a  form — awful,  ghastly,  and  unspeakably  repul- 
sive. The  head,  which  lay  high  but  inert  upon  the 
pillow,  was  surrounded  with  the  grey  hairs  of  age, 
and  the  eyes,  which  seemed  to  stare  into  ours,  were 
glassy  with  reflected  light  and  not  with  inward  intel- 
ligence. This  glassiness  told  the  tale  of  the  room's 
grim  silence.  It  was  death  we  looked  on,  not  the 
death  we  had  anticipated,  and  for  which  we  were  in 
a  measure  prepared,  but  one  fully  as  awful,  and 
having  for  its  victim,  not  Dorothy  Camerden  nor 
even  Gilbertine  Murray,  but  the  heartless  aunt, 
who  had  driven  them  both  like  slaves,  and  who 
now  lay  facing  the  reward  of  her  earthly  deeds 
alone. 

As  a  realisation  of  the  awful  truth  came  upon  me 
I  stumbled  against  the  bedpost,  looking  on  with  al- 
most blind  eyes  as  Sinclair  bent  over  the  rapidly 
whitening  face,  whose  naturally  ruddy  colour  no  one 
had  ever  before  seen  disturbed.  And  I  was  still 
standing  there  when  Mr.  Armstrong  and  all  the 
others  came  pouring  in.  Nor  have  I  any  distinct 
remembrance  of  what  was  said  or  how  I  came  to  be 
in  the  antechamber  again.  All  thought,  all  con- 


248  THE  AMETHYST  BOX 

sciousness  even,  seemed  to  forsake  me,  and  I  did  not 
really  waken  to  my  surroundings  till  some  one  near 
me  whispered: 

"Apoplexy!" 

Then  I  began  to  look  about  me  and  peer  into  the 
faces  crowding  up  on  every  side  for  the  only  one 
which  could  give  me  back  my  self-possession.  But 
though  there  were  many  girlish  countenances  to  be 
seen  in  the  awestruck  groups  huddled  in  every  corner, 
I  beheld  no  Dorothy,  and  was  therefore  but  little 
astonished  when  in  another  moment  I  heard  the  cry 
go  up: 

"  Where  is  Dorothy?  Where  was  she  when  her 
aunt  died?  " 

Alas !  there  was  no  one  there  to  answer,  and  the 
looks  of  those  about,  which  hitherto  had  expressed 
little  save  awe  and  fright,  turned  to  wonder,  and 
more  than  one  person  left  the  room  as  if  to  look  for 
her.  I  did  not  join  them.  I  was  rooted  to  the 
place.  Nor  did  Sinclair  stir  a  foot,  though  his  eye, 
which  had  been  wandering  restlessly  over  the  faces 
about  him,  now  settled  inquiringly  on  the  doorway. 
For  whom  was  he  looking?  Gilbertine  or  Dorothy? 
Gilbertine,  no  doubt,  for  he  visibly  brightened  as  her 
figure  presently  appeared  clad  in  a  negligee,  which 
emphasised  her  height,  and  gave  to  her  whole  ap- 
pearance a  womanly  sobriety  unusual  to  it. 

She  had  evidently  been  told  what  had  occurred, 
for  she  asked  no  questions,  only  leaned  in  still  horror 
against  the  doorpost,  with  her  eyes  fixed  on  the  room 
within.  Sinclair,  advancing,  held  out  his  arm.  She 


THE  AMETHYST  BOX  249 

gave  no  sign  of  seeing  it.  Then  he  spoke.  This 
seemed  to  rouse  her,  for  she  gave  him  a  grateful 
look,  though  she  did  not  take  his  arm. 

"  There  will  be  no  wedding  to-morrow,"  fell  from 
her  lips  in  self-communing  murmur. 

Only  a  few  minutes  had  passed  since  they  had 
started  to  find  Dorothy,  but  it  seemed  an  age  to  me. 
My  body  remained  in  the  room,  but  my  mind  was 
searching  the  house  for  the  girl  I  loved.  Where 
was  she  hidden?  Would  she  be  found  huddled  but 
alive  in  some  far-off  chamber?  Or  was  another  and 
more  dreadful  tragedy  awaiting  us?  I  wondered 
that  I  could  not  join  the  search.  I  wondered 
that  even  Gilbertine's  presence  could  keep  Sinclair 
from  doing  so.  Didn't  he  know  what  in  all-  prob- 
ability this  missing  girl  had  with  her?  Didn't  he 
know  what  I  had  suffered,  was  suffering?  Ah! 
what  now?  She  is  coming!  I  can  hear  them 
speaking  to  her.  Gilbertine  moves  from  the  door, 
and  a  young  man  and  woman  enter  with  Dorothy 
between  them. 

But  what  a  Dorothy!  Years  could  have  made 
no  greater  change  in  her.  She  looked  and  she  moved 
like  one  who  is  done  with  life,  yet  fears  the  few 
remaining  moments  left  her.  Instinctively  we  fell 
back  before  her;  instinctively  we  followed  her  with 
our  eyes  as,  reeling  a  little  at  the  door,  she  cast  a 
look  of  inconceivable  shrinking,  first  at  her  own  bed, 
then  at  the  group  of  older  people  watching  her  with 
serious  looks  from  the  room  beyond.  As  she  did  so 
I  noted  that  she  was  still  clad  in  her  evening  dress 


250  THE  AMETHYST  BOX 

of  grey,  and  that  there  was  no  more  colour  on  cheek 
or  lip  than  in  the  neutral  tints  of  her  gown. 

Was  it  our  consciousness  of  the  relief  which  Mrs. 
Lansing's  death,  horrible  as  it  was,  must  bring  to 
this  unhappy  girl,  and  of  the  inappropriateness  of 
any  display  of  grief  on  her  part,  which  caused  the 
silence  with  which  we  saw  her  pass  with  forced 
step  and  dread  anticipation  into  the  room  where  that 
image  of  dead  virulence  awaited  her?  Impossible 
to  tell.  I  could  not  read  my  own  thoughts.  How, 
then,  the  thoughts  of  others ! 

But  thoughts,  if  we  had  any,  all  fled  when,  after 
one  slow  turn  of  her  head  towards  the  bed,  this 
trembling  young  girl  gave  a  choking  shriek,  and  fell, 
face  down,  on  the  floor.  Evidently  she  had  not  been 
prepared  for  the  look  which  made  her  aunt's  still 
face  so  horrible.  How  could  she  have  been?  Had 
it  not  imprinted  itself  upon  my  mind  as  the  one 
revolting  vision  of  my  life?  How,  then,  if  this 
young  and  tender-hearted  girl  had  been  insensible  to 
it!  As  her  form  struck  the  floor  Mr.  Armstrong 
rushed  forward;  I  had  not  the  right.  But  it  was 
not  by  his  arms  she  was  lifted.  Sinclair  was  before 
him,  and  it  was  with  a  singularly  determined  look  I 
could  not  understand,  and  which  made  us  all  fall 
back,  that  he  raised  her  and  carried  her  into  her  own 
bed,  where  he  laid  her  gently  down.  Then,  as  if 
not  content  with  this  simple  attention,  he  hovered 
over  her  for  a  moment,  arranging  the  pillows  and 
smoothing  her  dishevelled  hair.  When  at  last  he 
left  her  the  women  rushed  forward. 


THE  AMETHYST  BOX  251 

"  Not  too  many  of  you,"  was  his  final  adjuration, 
as,  giving  me  a  look,  he  slipped  out  into  the  hall. 

I  followed  him  immediately.  He  had  gained  the 
moon-lighted  corridor  near  his  own  door,  where  he 
stood  awaiting  me  with  something  in  his  hand.  As 
I  approached,  he  drew  me  to  the  window  and  showed 
me  what  it  was.  It  was  the  amethyst  box,  open  and 
empty,  and  beside  it,  shining  with  a  yellow  instead 
of  a  purple  light,  the  little  vial  void  of  the  one  drop 
which  used  to  sparkle  within  it. 

"  I  found  the  vial  in  the  bed  with  the  old  woman," 
said  he.  "  The  box  I  saw  glittering  among  Doro- 
thy's locks  before  she  fell.  That  was  why  I  lifted 
her." 


THREE  O'CLOCK  IN  THE  MORNING 

As  he  spoke,  youth  with  its  brilliant  hopes,  illu- 
sions, and  beliefs,  passed  from  me,  never  to  return 
in  the  same  measure  again.  I  stared  at  the  glimmer- 
ing amethyst,  I  stared  at  the  empty  vial,  and,  as  a 
full  realisation  of  all  his  words  implied  seized  my 
benumbed  faculties,  I  felt  the  icy  chill  of  some  grisly 
horror  moving  among  the  roots  of  my  hair,  lifting 
it  on  my  forehead  and  filling  my  whole  being  with 
shrinking  and  dismay. 

Sinclair,  with  a  quick  movement,  replaced  the  tiny 
flask  in  its  old  receptacle,  and  then,  thrusting  the 
whole  out  of  sight,  seized  my  hand  and  wrung  it. 


252  THE  AMETHYST  BOX 

u  I  am  your  friend,"  he  whispered.  "  Remember, 
under  all  circumstances  and  in  every  exigency,  your 
friend." 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  with  those?  "  I  de- 
manded, when  I  regained  control  of  my  speech. 

"  I  do  not  know." 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  with — with  Doro- 
thy? " 

He  drooped  his  head;  I  could  see  his  fingers 
working  in  the  moonlight. 

"  The  physicians  will  soon  be  here.  I  heard  the 
telephone  going  a  few  minutes  ago.  When  they  have 
pronounced  the  old  woman  dead  we  will  give  the — 
the  lady  you  mention  an  opportunity  to  explain 
herself." 

Explain  herself,  she !  Simple  expectation.  Un- 
consciously I  shook  my  head. 

"  It  is  the  least  we  can  do,"  he  gently  persisted. 
"  Come,  we  must  not  be  seen  with  our  heads  to- 
gether— not  yet.  I  am  sorry  that  we  two  were  found 
more  or  less  dressed  at  the  time  of  the  alarm.  It 
may  cause  comment." 

"  She  was  dressed,  too,"  I  murmured,  as  much  to 
myself  as  to  him. 

"  Unfortunately,  yes,"  was  the  muttered  reply, 
with  which  he  drew  off  and  hastened  into  the  hall, 
where  the  now  thoroughly-aroused  household  stood 
in  a  great  group  about  the  excited  hostess. 

Mrs.  Armstrong  was  not  the  woman  for  an  emer- 
gency. With  streaming  hair  and  tightly-clutched 
kimono,  she  was  gesticulating  wildly  and  bemoaning 


THE  AMETHYST  BOX  253 

the  break  in  the  festivities  which  this  event  must 
necessarily  cause.  As  Sinclair  approached,  she 
turned  her  tirade  on  him,  and  as  all  stood  still  to 
listen  and  add  such  words  of  sympathy  or  disappoint- 
ment as  suggested  themselves  in  the  excitement  of 
the  moment,  I  had  an  opportunity  to  note  that  neither 
of  the  two  girls  most  interested  was  within  sight. 
This  troubled  me.  Drawing  up  to  the  outside  of 
the  circle,  I  asked  Beaton,  who  was  nearest  to  me,  if 
he  knew  how  Miss  Camerden  was. 

"  Better,  I  hear.  Poor  girl!  it  was  a  great  shock 
to  her." 

I  ventured  nothing  more.  The  conventionality  of 
his  tone  was  not  to  be  mistaken.  Our  conversation 
on  the  veranda  was  to  be  ignored.  I  did  not  know 
whether  to  feel  relief  at  this  or  an  added  distress. 
I  was  in  a  whirl  of  emotion  which  robbed  me  of  all 
discrimination.  As  I  realised  my  own  condition,  I 
concluded  that  my  wisest  move  would  be  to  withdraw 
myself  for  a  time  from  every  eye.  Accordingly, 
and  at  the  risk  of  offending  more  than  one  pretty 
girl  who  still  had  something  to  say  concerning  this 
terrible  mischance,  I  slid  away  to  my  room,  happy  to 
escape  the  murmurs  and  snatches  of  talk  rising  on 
every  side.  One  bitter  speech,  uttered  by  I  do  not 
know  whom,  rang  in  my  ears  and  made  all  thinking 
unendurable.  It  was  this : 

"  Poor  woman !  she  was  angry  once  too  often.  I 
heard  her  scolding  Dorothy  again  after  she  went  to 
her  room.  That  is  why  Dorothy  is  so  overcome. 
She  says  it  was  the  violence  of  her  aunt's  rage  which 


254  THE  AMETHYST  BOX 

killed  her — a  rage  of  which  she  unfortunately  was 
the  cause." 

So  there  were  words  again  between  these  two  after 
the  door  closed  upon  them  for  the  night !  Was  this 
what  we  heard  just  before  that  scream  went  up?  It 
would  seem  so.  Thereupon,  quite  against  my  will,  I 
found  myself  thinking  of  Dorothy's  changed  posi- 
tion before  the  world.  Only  yesterday  a  dependent 
slave;  to-day,  the  owner  of  millions.  Gilbertine 
would  have  her  share — a  large  one — but  there  was 
enough  to  make  them  both  wealthy.  Intolerable 
thought !  Would  that  no  money  had  been  involved ! 
I  hated  to  think  of  those  diamonds  and 

Oh,  anything  was  better  than  this!  Dashing  from 
my  room,  I  joined  one  of  the  groups  into  which  the 
single  large  circle  had  now  broken  up.  The  house 
had  been  lighted  from  end  to  end,  and  some  effort 
had  been  made  at  a  more  respectable  appearance  by 
such  persons  as  I  now  saw;  some  even  were  fully 
dressed.  All  were  engaged  in  discussing  the  one 
great  topic.  Listening  and  not  listening,  I  waited 
for  the  front-door  bell  to  ring.  It  sounded  while  one 
woman  was  saying  to  another: 

"  The  Sinclairs  will  now  be  able  to  take  their 
honeymoon  in  their  own  yacht." 

I  made  my  way  to  where  I  could  watch  Sinclair 
while  the  physicians  were  in  the  room.  I  thought 
his  face  looked  very  noble.  The  narrowness  of  his 
own  escape,  the  sympathy  for  me  which  the  event, 
so  much  worse  than  either  of  us  anticipated,  had 
wakened  in  his  generous  breast,  had  called  out  all 


THE  AMETHYST  BOX  255 

that  was  best  in  his  naturally  reserved  and  not- 
always-to-be-understood  nature.  A  tower  of  strength 
he  was  to  me  at  that  hour.  I  knew  that  mercy,  and 
mercy  only,  would  influence  his  conduct.  He  would 
be  guilty  of  no  rash  or  inconsiderate  act.  He  would 
give  this  young  girl  a  chance. 

Therefore,  when  the  physicians  had  pronounced 
the  case  one  of  apoplexy  (a  conclusion  most  natural 
under  the  circumstances),  and  the  excitement  which 
had  held  together  the  various  groups  of  uneasy 
guests  had  begun  to  subside,  it  was  with  perfect  confi- 
dence I  saw  him  approach  and  address  Gilbertine. 
She  was  standing  fully  dressed  at  the  stair-head, 
where  she  had  stopped  to  hold  some  conversation 
with  the  retiring  physicians;  and  the  look  she  gave 
him  in  return,  and  the  way  she  moved  off  in  obedience 
to  his  command  or  suggestion,  assured  me  that  he 
was  laying  plans  for  an  interview  with  Dorothy. 
Consequently,  I  was  quite  ready  to  obey  him  when  he 
finally  stepped  up  to  me  and  said : 

"  Go  below,  and  if  you  find  the  library  empty,  as 
I  have  no  doubt  you  will,  light  one  gas  jet,  and  see 
that  the  door  to  the  conservatory  is  unlocked.  I 
require  a  place  in  which  to  make  Gilbertine  com- 
fortable while  I  have  some  words  with  her  cousin." 

"  But  how  will  you  be  able  to  influence  Miss 
Camerden  to  come  down?  "  Somehow,  the  familiar 
name  of  Dorothy  would  not  pass  my  lips.  "  Do 
you  think  she  will  recognise  your  right  to  summon 
her  to  an  interview?  " 

"  Yes." 


256  THE  AMETHYST  BOX 

I  had  never  seen  his  lip  take  that  firm  line  before, 
yet  I  had  always  known  him  to  be  a  man  of  great 
resolution. 

"  But  how  can  you  reach  her?  She  is  shut  up  in 
her  own  room,  under  the  care,  I  am  told,  of  Mrs. 
Armstrong's  maid." 

"  I  know;  but  she  will  escape  that  dreadful  place 
as  soon  as  her  feet  will  carry  her.  I  shall  wait 
in  the  hall  till  I  see  her  come  out;  then  I  will  urge  her 
to  follow  me,  and  she  will  do  so,  attended  by  Gil- 
bertine." 

"And  I?  Do  you  mean  me  to  be  present  at  an 
interview  so  painful — nay,  so  serious  and  so  threaten- 
ing? It  would  cut  short  every  word  you  hope  to 
hear.  I — cannot ' 

"  I  have  not  asked  you  to.  It  is  imperative  that  I 
should  see  Miss  Camerden  alone."  (He  could  not 
call  her  Dorothy,  either.)  "  I  shall  ask  Gilbertine 
to  accompany  us,  so  that  appearances  may  be  pre- 
served. I  want  you  to  be  able  to  inform  any  one 
who  approaches  the  door  that  you  saw  me  go  in  there 
with  Miss  Murray." 

"  Then  I  am  to  stay  in  the  hall?  " 

"  If  you  will  be  so  kind." 

The  clock  struck  three. 

"  It  is  very  late,"  I  exclaimed.  "  Why  not  wait  till 
morning?  " 

"  And  have  the  whole  house  about  our  ears?  No. 
Besides,  some  things  will  not  keep  an  hour,  a  mo- 
ment. I  must  hear  what  this  young  girl  has  to  say 
in  response  to  my  questions.  Remember,  I  am  the 


THE  AMETHYST  BOX  257 

owner  of  the  flask  whose  contents  killed  the  old 
woman !  " 

"  You  believe  she  died  from  swallowing  that 
drop?" 

"  Absolutely." 

I  said  no  more,  but  hastened  downstairs  to  do  his 
bidding. 

I  found  the  lower  hall  partly  lighted,  but  none  of 
the  rooms. 

Entering  the  library,  I  lit  the  gas  as  Sinclair  had 
requested.  Then  I  tried  the  conservatory  door.  It 
was  unlocked.  Casting  a  sharp  glance  around,  I 
made  sure  that  the  lounges  were  all  unoccupied,  and 
that  I  could  safely  leave  Sinclair  to  hold  his  con- 
templated interview  without  fear  of  interruption. 
Then,  dreading  a  premature  arrival  on  his  part,  I 
slid  quickly  out,  and  moved  down  the  hall  to  where 
the  light  of  the  one  burning  jet  failed  to  penetrate. 
"  I  will  watch  from  here,"  thought  I,  and  entered 
upon  the  quick  pacing  of  the  floor  which  my  impa- 
tience and  the  overwrought  condition  of  my  nerves 
demanded. 

But  before  I  had  turned  on  my  steps  more  than 
half  a  dozen  times,  a  brilliant  ray  coming  from  some 
half-open  door  in  the  rear  caught  my  eye,  and  I 
stepped  back  to  see  if  any  one  was  sharing  my  watch. 
In  doing  so  I  came  upon  the  little  spiral  staircase 
which,  earlier  in  the  evening,  Sinclair  had  heard  creak 
under  some  unknown  footstep.  Had  this  footstep 
been  Dorothy's,  and  if  so,  what  had  brought  her  into 
this  remote  portion  of  the  house?  Fear?  Anguish? 


258  THE  AMETHYST  BOX 

Remorse?  A  flying  from  herself  or  from  it?  I 
wished  I  knew  just  where  she  had  been  found  by 
the  two  young  persons  who  had  brought  her  back 
into  her  aunt's  room.  No  one  had  volunteered  the 
information,  and  I  had  not  seen  the  moment  when  I 
felt  myself  in  a  position  to  demand  it. 

Proceeding  further,  I  stood  amazed  at  my  own 
forgetfulness.  The  light  which  had  attracted  my 
attention  came  from  the  room  devoted  to  the  display 
of  Miss  Murray's  wedding-gifts.  This  I  should 
have  known  instantly,  having  had  a  hand  in  their 
arrangement.  But  all  my  faculties  were  dulled  that 
night,  save  such  as  responded  to  dread  and  horror. 
Before  going  back  I  paused  to  look  at  the  detective 
whose  business  it  was  to  guard  the  room.  He  was 
sitting  very  quietly  at  his  post,  and  if  he  saw  me  he 
did  not  look  up.  Strange  that  I  had  forgotten  this 
man  when  keeping  my  own  vigil  above.  I  doubted 
if  Sinclair  had  remembered  him  either.  Yet  he  must 
have  been  unconsciously  sharing  our  watch  from  start 
to  finish — must  even  have  heard  the  cry  as  only  a 
waking  man  could  hear  it.  Should  I  ask  him  if  this 
was  so?  No.  Perhaps  I  had  not  the  courage  to 
hear  his  answer. 

Shortly  after  my  return  into  the  main  hall  I  heard 
steps  on  the  grand  staircase.  Looking  up,  I  saw  the 
two  girls  descending,  followed  by  Sinclair.  He  had 
been  successful,  then,  in  inducing  Dorothy  to  come 
down.  What  would  be  the  result?  Could  I  stand 
the  suspense  of  the  impending  interview? 

As  they  stepped  within  the  rays  of  the  solitary 


THE  AMETHYST  BOX  259 

gas  jet  already  mentioned,  I  cast  one  quick  look  into 
Gilbertine's  face,  then  a  long  one  into  Dorothy's. 
I  could  read  neither.  If  it  was  horror  and  horror 
only  which  rendered  both  so  pale  and  fixed  of 
feature,  then  their  emotion  was  similar  in  character 
and  intensity.  But  if  in  either  breast  the  one  domi- 
nant sentiment  was  fear — horrible,  blood-curdling 
fear — then  was  that  fear  confined  to  Dorothy;  for 
while  Gilbertine  advanced  bravely,  Dorothy's  steps 
lagged,  and  at  the  point  where  she  should  have 
turned  into  the  library,  she  whirled  sharply  about, 
and  made  as  if  she  would  fly  back  upstairs. 

But  one  stare  from  Gilbertine,  one  word  from 
Sinclair,  recalled  her  to  herself,  and  she  passed  in, 
and  the  door  closed  upon  the  three.  I  was  left  to 
prevent  possible  intrusion,  and  to  eat  out  my  heart 
in  intolerable  suspense. 


VI 

DOROTHY   SPEAKS 

I  shall  not  subject  you  to  the  ordeal  from  which  I 
suffered.  You  shall  follow  my  three  friends  into  the 
room.  According  to  Sinclair's  description,  the  inter- 
view proceeded  thus : 

As  soon  as  the  door  had  closed  upon  them,  and 
before  either  of  the  girls  had  a  chance  to  speak,  he 
remarked  to  Gilbertine: 

"  I  have  brought  you  here  because  I  wish  to  ex- 


260  THE  AMETHYST  BOX 

press  to  you,  in  the  presence  of  your  cousin,  my 
sympathy  for  the  bereavement  which  in  an  instant 
has  robbed  you  both  of  a  lifelong  guardian.  I  also 
wish  to  say,  in  the  light  of  this  sad  event,  that  I  am 
ready,  if  propriety  so  exacts,  to  postpone  the  cere- 
mony which  I  hoped  would  unite  our  lives  to-day. 
Your  wish  shall  be  my  wish,  Gilbertine;  though  I 
would  suggest  that  possibly  you  never  more  needed 
the  sympathy  and  protection  which  only  a  husband 
can  give  than  you  do  to-day." 

He  told  me  afterward  that  he  was  so  taken  up 
with  the  effect  of  this  suggestion  on  Gilbertine  that 
he  forgot  to  look  at  Dorothy,  though  the  hint  he 
strove  to  convey  of  impending  trouble  was  meant  as 
much  for  her  as  for  his  affianced  bride.  In  another 
moment  he  regretted  this,  especially  when  he  saw 
that  Dorothy  had  changed  her  attitude,  and  was  now 
looking  away  from  them  both. 

"What  do  you  say,  Gilbertine?"  he  asked  ear- 
nestly, as  she  sat  flushing  and  paling  before  him. 

"  Nothing.  I  have  not  thought — it  is  a  question 
for  others  to  decide — others  who  know  what  is  right 
better  than  I.  I  appreciate  your  consideration,"  she 
suddenly  burst  out,  "  and  should  be  glad  to  tell  you 
at  this  moment  what  to  expect.  But — give  me  a 
little  time — let  me  see  you  later — in  the  morning, 
Mr.  Sinclair,  after  we  are  all  somewhat  rested,  and 
when  I  can  see  you  quite  alone." 

Dorothy  rose. 

"Shall  I  go?"  she  asked. 

Sinclair  advanced,  and  with  quiet  protest  touched 


THE  AMETHYST  BOX  261 

her  on  the  shoulder.  Quietly  she  sank  back  into 
her  seat. 

"  I  want  to  say  a  half-dozen  words  to  you,  Miss 
Camerden.  Gilbertine  will  pardon  us;  it  is  about 
matters  which  must  be  settled  to-night.  There  are 
decisions  to  arrive  at  and  arrangements  to  be  made. 
Mrs.  Armstrong  has  instructed  me  to  question  you 
in  regard  to  these,  as  the  one  best  acquainted  with 
Mrs.  Lansing's  affairs  and  general  tastes.  We  will 
not  trouble  Gilbertine.  She  has  her  own  decisions 
to  reach.  Dear,  will  you  let  me  make  you  comfort- 
able in  the  conservatory  while  I  talk  for  five  minutes 
with  Dorothy?  " 

He  said  she  met  this  question  with  a  look  so 
blank  and  uncomprehending  that  he  just  lifted  her 
and  carried  her  in  among  the  palms. 

"  I  must  speak  to  Dorothy,"  he  pleaded,  placing 
her  in  the  chair  where  he  had  often  seen  her  sit  of 
her  own  accord.  "  Be  a  good  girl;  I  will  not  keep 
you  here  long." 

"  But  why  cannot  I  go  to  my  room?  I  do  not 
understand — I  am  frightened — what  have  you  to  say 
to  Dorothy  you  cannot  say  to  me?  " 

She  seemed  so  excited  that  for  a  minute,  just  a 
minute,  he  faltered  in  his  purpose.  Then  he  took 
her  gravely  by  the  hand. 

"  I  have  told  you,"  said  he.  Then  he  kissed  her 
softly  on  the  forehead.  "  Be  quiet,  dear,  and  rest. 
See,  here  are  roses !  " 

He  plucked  and  flung  a  handful  into  her  lap. 
Then  he  crossed  back  to  the  library  and  shut  the 


262  THE  AMETHYST  BOX 

conservatory  door  behind  him.  I  am  not  surprised 
that  Gilbertine  wondered  at  her  peremptory  bride- 
groom. 

When  Sinclair  re-entered  the  library,  he  found 
Dorothy  standing  with  her  hand  on  the  knob  of  the 
door  leading  into  the  hall.  Her  head  was  bent 
thoughtfully  forward,  as  though  she  were  inwardly 
debating  whether  to  stand  her  ground  or  fly.  Sinclair 
gave  her  no  further  opportunity  for  hesitation.  Ad- 
vancing rapidly,  he  laid  his  hand  gently  on  hers,  and 
with  a  gravity  which  must  have  impressed  her, 
quietly  remarked: 

"  I  must  ask  you  to  stay  and  hear  what  I  have  to 
say.  I  wished  to  spare  Gilbertine;  would  that  I 
could  spare  you !  But  circumstances  forbid.  You 
know  and  I  know  that  your  aunt  did  not  die  of 
apoplexy." 

She  gave  a  violent  start,  and  her  lips  parted.  If 
the  hand  under  his  clasp  had  been  cold,  it  was  now 
icy.  He  let  his  own  slip  from  the  contact. 

"  You  know !  "  she  echoed,  trembling  and  pallid, 
her  released  hand  flying  instinctively  to  her 
hair. 

"  Yes;  you  need  not  feel  about  for  the  little  box. 
I  took  it  from  its  hiding-place  when  I  laid  you  faint- 
ing on  the  bed.  Here  it  is." 

He  drew  it  from  his  pocket  and  showed  it  to  her. 
She  hardly  glanced  at  it;  her  eyes  were  fixed  in 
terror  on  his  face,  and  her  lips  seemed  to  be  trying 
in  vain  t&  formulate  some  inquiry. 

He  tried  to  be  merciful. 


THE  AMETHYST  BOX  263 

"  I  missed  it  many  hours  ago  from  the  shelf  yon- 
der where  you  all  saw  me  place  it.  Had  I  known 
that  you  had  taken  it,  I  would  have  repeated  to  you 
how  deadly  were  the  contents,  and  how  dangerous 
it  was  to  handle  the  vial  or  to  let  others  handle  it, 
much  less  to  put  it  to  the  lips." 

She  started,  and  instinctively  her  form  rose  to  its 
full  height. 

"  Have  you  looked  in  that  little  box  since  you  took 
it  from  my  hair?  "  she  asked. 

"  Yes." 

"  Then  you  know  it  to  be  empty?  " 

For  answer  he  pressed  the  spring,  and  the  little 
lid  flew  open. 

"  It  is  not  empty  now,  you  see."  Then  more 
slowly  and  with  infinite  meaning:  "But  the  little 
flask  is." 

She  brought  her  hands  together  and  faced  him 
with  a  noble  dignity  which  at  once  put  the  interview 
on  a  different  footing. 

u  Where  was  this  vial  found?  "  she  demanded. 

He  found  it  difficult  to  answer.  They  seemed  to 
have  exchanged  positions.  When  he  did  speak  it 
was  in  a  low  tone,  and  with  less  confidence  than  he 
had  shown  before. 

"  In  the  bed  with  the  old  lady.  I  saw  it  there 
myself.  Mr.  Worthington  was  with  me.  Nobody 
else  knows  anything  about  it.  I  wish  to  give  you  an 
opportunity  to  explain.  I  begin  to  think  you  can — 
but  how,  God  only  knows.  The  box  was  hidden  in 
your  hair  from  early  evening.  I  saw  your  hand  con- 


264  THE  AMETHYST  BOX 

tinually  fluttering  toward  it  all  the  time  we  were 
dancing  in  the  parlour." 

She  did  not  lose  an  iota  of  her  dignity  or  pride. 

"  You  are  right,"  she  said.  "  I  put  it  there  as  soon 
as  I  took  it  from  the  cabinet.  I  could  think  of  no 
safer  hiding-place.  Yes,  I  took  it,"  she  acknowl- 
edged, as  she  saw  the  flush  rise  to  his  cheek.  "  I 
took  it;  but  with  no  worse  motive  than  the  dis- 
honest one  of  having  for  my  own  an  object  which 
bewitched  me.  I  was  hardly  myself  when  I  snatched 
it  from  the  shelf  and  thrust  it  into  my  hair." 

He  stared  at  her  in  amazement,  her  confession 
and  her  attitude  so  completely  contradicted  each 
other. 

"  But  I  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  vial,"  she  went 
on.  And  with  this  declaration  her  whole  manner, 
even  her  voice  changed,  as  if  with  the  utterance  of 
these  few  words  she  had  satisfied  some  inner  demand 
of  self-respect,  and  could  now  enter  into  the  suffer- 
ings of  those  about  her.  "  This  I  think  it  right  to 
make  plain  to  you.  I  supposed  the  vial  to  be  in  the 
box  when  I  took  it,  but  when  I  got  to  my  room  and 
had  an  opportunity  to  examine  the  deadly  trinket,  I 
found  it  empty,  just  as  you  found  it  when  you  took 
it  from  my  hair.  Some  one  had  taken  the  vial  out 
before  my  hand  had  ever  touched  the  box." 

Like  a  man  who  feels  himself  suddenly  seized 
by  the  throat,  yet  who  struggles  for  the  life  slowly 
but  inexorably  leaving  him,  Sinclair  cast  one  heart- 
rending look  toward  the  conservatory,  then  heavily 
demanded : 


THE  AMETHYST  BOX  265 

"Why  were  you  out  of  your  room?  Why  did 
they  have  to  look  for  you  ?  And  who  was  the  person 
who  uttered  that  scream?  " 

She  confronted  him  sadly,  but  with  an  earnestness 
he  could  not  but  respect. 

"  I  was  not  in  the  room  because  I  was  troubled  by 
my  discovery.  I  think  I  had  some  idea  of  returning 
the  box  to  the  shelf  from  which  I  had  taken  it.  At 
all  events,  I  found  myself  on  the  little  staircase  in 
the  rear  when  that  cry  rang  through  the  house.  I 
do  not  know  who  uttered  it;  I  only  know  that  it 
did  not  spring  from  my  lips." 

In  a  rush  of  renewed  hope  he  seized  her  by  the 
hand. 

"  It  was  your  aunt!  "  he  whispered.  "  It  was  she 
who  took  the  vial  out  of  the  box;  who  put  it  to  her 
own  lips;  who  shrieked  when  she  felt  her  vitals 
gripped.  Had  you  stayed  you  would  have  known 
this.  Can't  you  say  so  ?  Don't  you  think  so  ?  Why 
do  you  look  at  me  with  those  incredulous  eyes?  " 

"  Because  you  must  not  believe  a  lie.  Because  you 
are  too  good  a  man  to  be  sacrificed.  It  was  a 
younger  throat  than  my  aunt's  which  gave  utterance 
to  that  shriek.  Mr.  Sinclair,  be  advised;  do  not  be 
married  to-morrow!  " 

Meanwhile  I  was  pacing  the  hall  without  in  a 
delirium  of  suspense.  I  tried  hard  to  keep  within 
the  bounds  of  silence.  I  had  turned  for  the  fiftieth 
time  to  face  that  library  door,  when  suddenly  I  heard 
a  hoarse  cry  break  from  within,  and  saw  the  door 
fly  open  and  Dorothy  come  hurrying  out.  She 


266  THE  AMETHYST  BOX 

shrank  when  she  saw  me,  but  seemed  grateful  that 
I  did  not  attempt  to  stop  her,  and  soon  was  up  the 
stairs  and  out  of  sight.  I  rushed  at  once  into  the 
library. 

I  found  Sinclair  sitting  before  a  table  with  his  head 
buried  in  his  hands.  In  an  instant  I  knew  that  our 
positions  were  again  reversed,  and,  without  stopping 
to  give  heed  to  my  own  sensations,  I  approached 
him  as  near  as  I  dared  and  laid  my  hand  on 
his  shoulder. 

He  shuddered,  but  did  not  look  up,  and  it  was 
minutes  before  he  spoke.  Then  it  all  came  in  a  rush. 

"  Fool !  fool  that  I  was !  And  I  saw  that  she  was 
consumed  by  fright  the  moment  it  became  plain  that 
I  was  intent  upon  having  some  conversation  with 
Dorothy.  Her  fingers  where  they  gripped  my  arm 
must  have  left  marks  behind  them.  But  I  saw  only 
womanly  nervousness  when  a  man  less  blind  would 
have  detected  guilt.  Walter,  I  wish  that  the  mere 
scent  of  this  empty  flask  would  kill.  Then  I  should 
not  have  to  re-enter  that  conservatory  door — or 
look  again  in  her  face,  or " 

He  had  taken  out  the  cursed  jewel  and  was  finger- 
ing it  in  a  nervous  way  which  went  to  my  heart  of 
hearts.  Gently  removing  it  from  his  hand,  I  asked 
with  all  the  calmness  possible : 

"  What  is  all  this  mystery?  Why  have  your  sus- 
picions returned  to  Gilbertine?  I  thought  you  had 
entirely  dissociated  her  with  this  matter,  and  that 
you  blamed  Dorothy,  and  Dorothy  only,  for  the 
amethyst's  loss?  " 


THE  AMETHYST  BOX  267 

"  Dorothy  had  the  empty  box;  but  the  vial!  the 
vial ! — that  had  been  taken  by  a  previous  hand.  Do 
you  remember  the  white  silk  train  which  Mr.  Arm- 
strong saw  slipping  from  this  room?  I  cannot  talk, 
Walter;  my  duty  leads  me  there." 

He  pointed  towards  the  conservatory.  I  drew 
back  and  asked  if  I  should  take  up  my  watch  again 
outside  the  door. 

He  shook  his  head. 

"  It  makes  no  difference;  nothing  makes  any  dif- 
ference. But  if  you  want  to  please  me,  stay  here." 

I  at  once  sank  into  a  chair.  He  made  a  great 
effort  and  advanced  to  the  conservatory  door.  I 
studiously  looked  another  way;  my  heart  was  break- 
ing with  sympathy  for  him. 

But  in  another  instant  I  was  on  my  feet.  I  could 
hear  him  rushing  about  among  the  palms.  Presently 
I  heard  his  voice  shout  out  the  wild  cry : 

"  She  is  gone !  I  forgot  the  other  door  commu- 
nicating with  the  hall." 

I  crossed  the  floor  and  entered  where  he  stood 
gazing  down  at  an  empty  seat  and  a  trail  of  scattered 
roses.  Never  shall  I  forget  his  face.  The  dimness 
of  the  spot  could  not  hide  his  deep,  unspeakable 
emotions.  To  him  this  flight  bore  but  one  interpre- 
tation— guilt. 

I  did  not  advocate  Sinclair's  pressing  the  matter 
further  that  night.  I  saw  that  he  was  exhausted,  and 
that  any  further  movement  would  tax  him  beyond 
his  strength.  We  therefore  separated  immediately 
after  leaving  the  library,  and  I  found  my  way  to  my 


268  THE  AMETHYST  BOX 

own  room  alone.  It  may  seem  callous  in  me,  but  I 
fell  asleep  very  soon  after,  and  did  not  wake  till 
roused  by  a  knock  at  my  door.  On  opening  it  I 
confronted  Sinclair,  looking  haggard  and  unkempt. 
As  he  entered,  the  first  clear  notes  of  the  breakfast- 
call  could  be  heard  rising  from  the  lower  hall. 

"  I  have  not  slept,"  he  said.  "  I  have  been  walk- 
ing the  hall  all  night,  listening  by  spells  at  her  door, 
and  at  other  times  giving  what  counsel  I  could  to  the 
Armstrongs.  God  forgive  me,  but  I  have  said  noth- 
ing to  any  one  of  what  has  made  this  affair  an  awful 
tragedy  to  me!  Do  you  think  I  did  wrong?  I 
waited  to  give  Dorothy  a  chance.  Why  should  I  not 
show  the  same  consideration  to  Gilbertine?" 

"  You  should."  But  our  eyes  did  not  meet,  and 
neither  voice  expressed  the  least  hope. 

"  I  shall  not  go  to  breakfast,"  he  now  declared. 
"  I  have  written  this  line  to  Gilbertine.  Will  you 
see  that  she  gets  it?  " 

For  reply  I  held  out  my  hand.  He  placed  the 
note  in  it,  and  I  was  touched  to  see  that  it  was  un- 
sealed. 

"  Be  sure,  when  you  give  it  to  her,  that  she  will 
have  an  opportunity  of  reading  it  alone.  I  shall 
request  the  use  of  one  of  the  little  reception-rooms 
this  morning.  Let  her  come  there  if  she  is  so  im- 
pelled. She  will  find  a  friend  as  well  as  a  judge." 

I  endeavoured  to  express  sympathy,  urge  patience, 
and  suggest  hope.  But  he  had  no  ear  for  words, 
though  he  tried  to  listen,  poor  fellow!  so  I  soon 
stopped,  and  he  presently  left  the  room.  I  immedi- 


THE  AMETHYST  BOX  269 

ately  made  myself  as  presentable  as  a  night  of  un- 
precedented emotions  would  allow,  and  went  below 
to  do  him  such  service  as  opportunity  offered  and 
the  exigencies  of  the  case  permitted. 

I  found  the  lower  hall  alive  with  eager  guests  and 
a  few  outsiders.  News  of  the  sad  event  was  slowly 
making  its  way  through  the  avenue,  and  some  of  the 
Armstrongs'  nearest  neighbours  had  left  their  break- 
fast-tables to  express  their  interest  and  to  hear  the 
particulars.  Among  these  stood  the  lady  of  the 
house;  but  Mr.  Armstrong  was  nowhere  within 
sight.  For  him  the  breakfast  waited.  Not  wishing 
to  be  caught  in  any  little  swirl  of  conventional  com- 
ment, I  remained  near  the  staircase  waiting  for  some 
one  to  descend  who  could  give  me  news  concerning 
Miss  Murray.  For  I  had  small  expectation  of  her 
braving  the  eyes  of  these  strangers,  and  doubted  if 
even  Dorothy  would  be  seen  at  the  breakfast-table. 
But  little  Miss  Lane,  if  small,  was  gifted  with  a  great 
appetite.  She  would  be  sure  to  appear  prior  to  the 
last  summons,  and  as  we  were  good  friends,  she 
would  listen  to  my  questions  and  give  me  the  answer 
I  needed  for  the  carrying  out  of  Sinclair's  wishes. 
But  before  her  light  footfall  was  heard  descending 
I  was  lured  from  my  plans  by  an  unexpected  series 
of  events.  Three  men  came  down,  one  after  the 
other,  followed  by  Mr.  Armstrong,  looking  even 
more  grave  and  ponderous  than  usual.  Two  of 
them  were  the  physicians  who  had  been  called  in  the 
night,  and  whom  I  myself  had  seen  depart  some- 
where near  three  o'clock.  The  third  I  did  not  know, 


270  THE  AMETHYST  BOX 

but  he  looked  like  a  doctor  also.  Why  were  they 
here  again  so  early?  Had  anything  new  come  to 
light? 

It  was  a  question  which  seemed  to  strike  others 
as  well  as  myself.  As  Mr.  Armstrong  ushered  them 
down  the  hall  and  out  of  the  front-door  many  were 
the  curious  glances  which  followed  them,  and  it  was 
with  difficulty  that  the  courteous  host  on  his  return 
escaped  the  questions  and  detaining  hands  of  some 
of  his  inquisitive  guests.  A  pleasant  word,  an  ami- 
able smile,  he  had  for  all;  but  I  was  quite  certain, 
when  I  saw  him  disappear  into  the  little  room  he 
retained  for  his  own  use,  that  he  had  told  them  noth- 
ing which  could  in  any  way  relieve  their  curiosity. 

This  filled  me  with  a  vague  alarm.  Something 
must  have  occurred — something  which  Sinclair  ought 
to  know.  I  felt  a  great  anxiety,  and  was  closely 
watching  the  door  behind  which  Mr.  Armstrong 
had  vanished  when  it  suddenly  opened,  and  I  per- 
ceived that  he  had  been  writing  a  telegram.  As  he 
gave  it  to  one  of  the  servants  he  made  a  gesture 
to  the  man  standing  with  extended  hand  by  the 
Chinese  gong,  and  the  summons  rang  out  for  break- 
fast. Instantly  the  hum  of  voices  ceased,  and  young 
and  old  turned  toward  the  dining-room,  but  the 
host  did  not  enter  with  them.  Before  the  younger 
and  more  active  of  his  guests  could  reach  his  side  he 
had  slid  into  the  room  which  I  have  before  described 
as  set  apart  for  the  display  of  Gilbertine's  wedding- 
presents.  Instantly  I  lost  all  inclination  for  break- 
fast, and  lingered  about  in  the  hall  until  every  one 


THE  AMETHYST  BOX  271 

had  passed  me,  even  little  Miss  Lane,  who  had  come 
down  unperceived  while  I  was  watching  Mr.  Arm- 
strong's door.  Not  very  well  pleased  with  myself 
for  having  missed  the  one  opportunity  which  might 
have  been  of  service  to  me,  I  was  asking  myself 
whether  I  should  follow  her,  and  make  the  best 
attempt  I  could  at  sociability,  if  not  at  eating,  when 
Mr.  Armstrong  approached  from  the  side  hall,  and, 
accosting  me,  inquired  if  Mr.  Sinclair  had  come  down 
yet. 

I  assured  him  that  I  had  not  seen  him,  and  did 
not  think  he  meant  to  come  to  breakfast,  adding 
that  he  had  been  very  much  affected  by  the  affairs  of 
the  night,  and  had  told  me  that  he  was  going  to  shut 
himself  up  in  his  room  and  rest. 

"  I  am  sorry,  but  there  is  a  question  I  must  ask 
him  immediately.  It  is  about  a  little  Italian  trinket 
which  I  am  told  he  displayed  to  the  ladies  yesterday 
afternoon." 


VII 

CONSTRAINT 

So  our  dreadful  secret  was  not  confined  to  our- 
selves, as  we  had  supposed,  but  was  shared,  or  at 
least  suspected,  by  our  host. 

Thankful  that  it  was  I,  rather  than  Sinclair,  who 
was  called  upon  to  meet  and  sustain  this  shock,  I 
answered  with  what  calmness  I  could : 

"  Yes ;  Sinclair  mentioned  the  matter  to  me.    In- 


272  THE  AMETHYST  BOX 

deed,  if  you  have  any  curiosity  on  the  subject,  I 
think  I  can  enlighten  you  as  fully  as  he  can." 

Mr.  Armstrong  glanced  up  the  stairs,  hesitated, 
then  drew  me  into  his  private  room. 

"  I  find  myself  in  a  very  uncomfortable  position," 
he  began.  "  A  strange  and  quite  unaccountable 
change  has  shown  itself  in  the  appearance  of  Mrs. 
Lansing's  body  during  the  last  few  hours — a  change 
which  baffles  the  physicians  and  raises  in  their  minds 
very  unfortunate  conjectures.  What  I  want  to  know 
is  whether  Mr.  Sinclair  still  has  in  his  possession 
the  box  which  is  said  to  hold  a  vial  of  deadly  poison, 
or  whether  it  has  passed  into  any  other  hand  since 
he  showed  it  to  certain  ladies  in  the  library." 

We  were  standing  directly  in  the  light  of  an 
eastern  window.  Deception  was  impossible,  even  if 
I  had  felt  like  employing  it.  In  Sinclair's  interests, 
if  not  in  my  own,  I  resolved  to  be  as  true  to  our 
host  as  our  positions  demanded,  yet,  at  the  same 
time,  to  save  Gilbertine  as  much  as  possible  from 
premature,  if  not  final  suspicion. 

I  therefore  replied :  "  That  is  a  question  I  can 
answer  as  well  as  Sinclair."  (Happy  was  I  to  save 
him  this  cross-examination.)  "  While  he  was  show- 
ing this  toy,  Mrs.  Armstrong  came  into  the  room 
and  proposed  a  stroll,  which  drew  all  of  the  ladies 
from  the  room  and  called  for  his  attendance  as  well. 
With  no  thought  of  the  danger  involved,  he  placed 
the  trinket  on  a  high  shelf  in  the  cabinet,  and  went 
out  with  the  rest.  When  he  came  back  for  it.  it 
was  gone." 


THE  AMETHYST  BOX  273 

The  usually  ruddy  aspect  of  my  host's  face  deep- 
ened, and  he  sat  down  in  the  great  armchair  which 
did  duty  before  his  writing-table. 

"  This  is  dreadful!  "  was  his  comment;  "  entailing 
I  do  not  know  what  unfortunate  consequences  upon 
this  household  and  on  the  unhappy  girl " 

"Girl?"  I  repeated. 

He  turned  upon  me  with  great  gravity.  "  Mr. 
Worthington,  I  am  sorry  to  have  to  admit  it,  but 
something  strange,  something  not  easily  explainable, 
took  place  in  this  house  last  night.  It  has  only  just 
come  to  light,  otherwise  the  doctors'  conclusions 
might  have  been  different.  You  know  there  is  a 
detective  in  the  house.  The  presents  are  valuable, 
and  I  thought  best  to  have  a  man  here  to  look  after 
them." 

I  nodded;  I  had  no  breath  for  speech. 

u  This  man  tells  me,"  continued  Mr.  Armstrong, 
"  that  just  a  few  minutes  previous  to  the  time  the 
whole  household  was  aroused  last  night  he  heard  a 
step  in  the  hall  overhead,  then  the  sound  of  a  light 
foot  descending  the  little  staircase  in  the  servants' 
hall.  Being  anxious  to  find  out  what  this  person 
wanted  at  an  hour  so  late,  he  lowered  the  gas,  closed 
his  door,  and  listened.  The  steps  went  by  his  door. 
Satisfied  that  it  was  a  woman  he  heard,  he  pulled 
open  the  door  again  and  looked  out.  A  young  girl 
was  standing  not  very  far  from  him  in  a  thin  streak 
of  moonlight.  She  was  gazing  intently  at  something 
in  her  hand,  and  that  something  had  a  purple  gleam 
to  it.  He  is  ready  to  swear  to  this.  Next  moment, 


274  THE  AMETHYST  BOX 

frightened  by  some  noise  she  heard,  she  fled  back, 
and  vanished  again  in  the  region  of  the  little  stair- 
case. It  was  soon,  very  soon,  after  this  that  the 
shriek  came.  Now,  Mr.  Worthington,  what  am  I 
to  do  with  this  knowledge?  I  have  advised  this 
man  to  hold  his  peace  till  I  can  make  inquiries,  but 
where  am  I  to  make  them?  I  cannot  think  that  Miss 
Camerden " 

The  ejaculation  which  escaped  me  was  involun- 
tary. To  hear  her  name  for  the  second  time  in  this 
association  was  more  than  I  could  bear. 

"  Did  he  say  it  was  Miss  Camerden?  "  I  hurriedly 
inquired,  as  he  looked  at  me  in  some  surprise. 
"  How  should  he  know  Miss  Camerden?  " 

"  He  described  her,"  was  the  unanswerable  reply. 
41  Besides,  we  know  that  she  was  circulating  in  the 
halls  at  that  time.  I  declare  I  have  never  known  a 
worse  business,"  this  amiable  man  bemoaned.  "  Let 
me  send  for  Sinclair;  he  is  more  interested  than  any 
one  else  in  Gilbertine's  relatives;  or,  stay,  what  if 
I  should  send  for  Miss  Camerden  herself?  She 
should  be  able  to  tell  how  she  came  by  this  box." 

I  subdued  my  own  instincts,  which  were  all  for 
clearing  Dorothy  on  the  spot,  and  answered  as  I 
thought  Sinclair  would  like  me  to  answer. 

u  It  is  a  serious  and  very  perplexing  piece  of  busi- 
ness," said  I;  "  but  if  you  will  wait  a  short  time  I  do 
not  think  you  will  have  to  trouble  Miss  Camerden. 
I  am  sure  that  explanations  will  be  given.  Give  the 
lady  a  chance,"  I  stammered.  "  Imagine  what  her 
feelings  would  be  if  questioned  on  so  delicate  a  topic. 


THE  AMETHYST  BOX  275 

It  would  make  a  breach  which  nothing  could  heal. 
Later,  if  she  does  not  speak,  it  will  be  only  right  for 
you  to  ask  her  why." 

"  She  did  not  come  down  this  morning." 

11  Naturally  not." 

"  If  I  could  take  counsel  of  my  wife !  But  she  is 
of  too  nervous  a  temperament.  I  am  anxious  to 
keep  her  from  knowing  this  fresh  complication  as 
long  as  possible.  Do  you  think  I  can  look  for  Miss 
Camerden  to  explain  herself  before  the  doctors  re- 
turn, or  before  Mrs.  Lansing's  physician,  for  whom 
I  have  telegraphed,  can  arrive  from  New  York?  " 

"I  am  sure  that  three  hours  will  not  pass  before 
you  hear  the  truth.  Leave  me  to  work  out  the 
situation.  I  promise  that  if  I  cannot  bring  it  about 
to  your  satisfaction,  Sinclair  shall  be  asked  to  lend 
his  assistance.  Only  keep  the  gossips  from  Miss 
Camerden's  good  name.  Words  can  be  said  in  a 
moment  that  will  not  be  forgotten  in  years.  I  trem- 
ble at  such  a  prospect  for  her." 

"  No  one  knows  of  her  having  been  seen  with  the 
box,"  he  protested;  and,  relieved  as  much  by  his 
manner  as  by  his  words,  I  took  my  leave  of  him, 
and  made  my  way  at  once  to  the  dining-room. 
Should  I  find  Miss  Lane  there?  Yes,  and  what  was 
better  still,  the  fortunes  of  the  day  had  decreed  that 
the  place  beside  her  should  be  unoccupied. 

I  was  on  my  way  to  that  place  when  I  was  struck 
by  the  extreme  quiet  into  which  the  room  had  fallen. 
It  had  been  humming  with  talk  when  I  first  entered, 
but  now  not  a  voice  was  raised  and  scarcely  an  eye. 


276  THE  AMETHYST  BOX 

In  the  hurried  glance  I  cast  about  the  board,  not  a 
look  met  mine  in  recognition  or  welcome. 

What  did  it  mean?  Had  they  been  talking  about 
me?  Possibly;  and  in  a  way,  it  would  seem,  that 
was  not  altogether  flattering  to  my  vanity. 

Unable  to  hide  my  sense  of  the  general  embarrass- 
ment which  my  presence  had  called  forth,  I  passed  to 
the  seat  I  have  indicated,  and  let  my  inquiring  look 
settle  on  Miss  Lane.  She  was  staring,  in  imitation 
of  the  others,  straight  into  her  plate;  but  as  I  saluted 
her  with  a  quiet  "  Good-morning,"  she  looked  up 
and  acknowledged  my  courtesy  with  a  faint,  almost 
sympathetic,  smile.  At  once  the  whole  tableful  broke 
again  into  chatter,  and  I  could  safely  put  the  ques- 
tion with  which  my  mind  was  full. 

"  How  is  Miss  Murray?  "  I  asked.  "  I  do  not  see 
her  here." 

"  Did  you  expect  to?  Poor  Gilbertine!  This  is 
not  the  bridal-day  she  expected."  Then,  with  irre- 
sistible naivete,  entirely  in  keeping  with  her  fairy- 
like  figure  and  girlish  face,  she  added:  "  I  think  it 
was  just  horrid  in  the  old  woman  to  die  the  night 
before  the  wedding,  don't  you?  " 

"  Indeed  I  do,"  I  emphatically  rejoined,  humour- 
ing her  in  the  hope  of  learning  what  I  wished  to 
know.  "  Does  Miss  Murray  still  cherish  the  ex- 
pectation of  being  married  to-day?  No  one  seems  to 
know." 

"  Nor  do  I.  I  haven't  seen  her  since  the  middle 
of  the  night.  She  didn't  come  back  to  her  room. 
They  say  she  is  sobbing  out  her  terror  and 


THE  AMETHYST  BOX  277 

pointment  in  some  attic  corner.  Think  of  that 
for  Gilbertine  Murray!  But  even  that  is  better 
than " 

The  sentence  trailed  away  into  an  indistinguish- 
able murmur,  the  murmur  into  silence.  Was  it  be- 
cause of  a  fresh  lull  in  the  conversation  about  us? 
I  hardly  think  so,  for  though  the  talk  was  presently 
resumed,  she  remained  silent,  not  even  giving  the 
least  sign  of  wishing  to  prolong  this  particular  topic. 
I  finished  my  coffee  as  soon  as  possible  and  quitted 
the  room,  but  not  before  many  had  preceded  me. 
The  hall  was  consequently  as  full  as  before  of  a 
gossiping  crowd. 

I  was  on  the  point  of  bowing  myself  through  the 
various  groups  blocking  my  way  to  the  library  door, 
when  I  noticed  renewed  signs  of  embarrassment  on 
all  the  faces  turned  my  way.  Women  who  were 
clustered  about  the  newel-post  drew  back,  and  some 
others  sauntered  away  into  side-rooms  with  an  ap- 
pearance of  suddenly  wishing  to  go  somewhere. 
This  certainly  was  very  singular,  especially  as  these 
marks  of  disapproval  did  not  seem  to  be  directed  so 
much  at  myself  as  at  some  one  behind  me.  Who 
could  this  some  one  be?  Turning  quickly,  I  cast  a 
glance  up  the  staircase,  before  which  I  stood,  and  saw 
the  figure  of  a  young  girl  dressed  in  black  hesitating 
on  the  landing.  This  young  girl  was  Dorothy  Cam- 
erden,  and  it  took  but  a  moment's  contemplation 
of  the  scene  for  me  to  feel  assured  that  it  was  against 
her  this  feeling  of  universal  constraint  had  been 
directed. 


278  THE  AMETHYST  BOX 

VIII 

GILBERTINE    SPEAKS 

Knowing  my  darling's  innocence,  I  felt  the  insult 
shown  her  in  my  heart  of  hearts,  and  might  in  the 
heat  of  the  moment  have  been  betrayed  into  an 
unwise  utterance  of  my  indignation,  if  at  that  mo- 
ment I  had  not  encountered  the  eye  of  Mr.  Arm- 
strong fixed  on  me  from  the  rear  hall.  In  the 
mingled  surprise  and  distress  he  displayed,  I  saw 
that  it  was  not  from  any  indiscretion  of  his  that  this 
feeling  against  her  had  started.  He  had  not  be- 
trayed the  trust  I  had  placed  in  him,  yet  the  murmur 
had  gone  about  which  virtually  ostracised  her,  and 
instead  of  confronting  the  eager  looks  of  friends,  she 
found  herself  met  by  averted  glances  and  coldly 
turned  backs,  and  soon  by  an  almost  empty  hall. 

She  flushed  as  she  realised  the  effect  of  her  pres- 
ence, and  cast  me  an  agonised  look  which,  without 
her  expectation,  perhaps,  roused  every  instinct  of 
chivalry  within  me.  Advancing,  I  met  her  at  the 
foot  of  the  stairs,  and  with  one  quick  word  seemed 
to  restore  her  to  herself. 

"  Be  patient!  "  I  whispered.  "  To-morrow  they 
will  all  be  around  you  again.  Perhaps  sooner.  Go 
into  the  conservatory  and  wait." 

She  gave  me  a  grateful  pressure  of  the  hand,  while 
I  bounded  upstairs,  determined  that  nothing  should 
stop  me  from  finding  Gilbertine,  and  giving  her  the 
letter  with  which  Sinclair  had  entrusted  me. 


THE  AMETHYST  BOX  279 

But  this  was  more  easily  planned  than  accom- 
plished. When  I  had  reached  the  third  floor  (an 
unaccustomed  and  strange  spot  for  me  to  find  myself 
in)  I  at  first  found  no  one  who  could  tell  me  to 
which  room  Miss  Murray  had  retired.  Then,  when 
I  did  come  across  a  stray  housemaid,  and  she,  with 
an  extraordinary  stare,  had  pointed  out  the  door,  I 
found  it  quite  impossible  to  gain  any  response  from 
within,  though  I  could  hear  a  quick  step  moving  rest- 
lessly to  and  fro,  and  now  and  then  catch  the  sound 
of  a  smothered  sob  or  low  cry.  The  wretched  girl 
would  not  heed  me,  though  I  told  her  who  I  was, 
and  that  I  had  a  letter  from  Mr.  Sinclair  in  my  hand. 
Indeed,  she  presently  became  perfectly  quiet,  and  let 
me  knock  again  and  again,  till  the  situation  became 
ridiculous,  and  I  felt  obliged  to  draw  off. 

Not  that  I  thought  of  yielding.  No,  I  would  stay 
there  till  her  own  fancy  drove  her  to  open  the  door, 
or  till  Mr.  Armstrong  should  come  up  and  force  it. 
A  woman  upon  whom  so  many  interests  depended 
would  not  be  allowed  to  remain  shut  up  the  whole 
morning.  Her  position  as  a  possible  bride  forbade 
it.  Guilty  or  innocent,  she  must  show  herself  be- 
fore long.  As  if  in  answer  to  my  expectation,  a  figure 
appeared  at  this  very  moment  at  the  other  end  of 
the  hall.  It  was  Button,  the  butler,  and  in  his  hand 
he  held  a  telegram.  He  seemed  astonished  to  see  me 
there,  but  passed  me  with  a  simple  bow,  and  stopped 
before  the  door  I  had  so  unavailingly  assailed  a  few 
minutes  before. 

"  A  telegram,  miss,"  he  shouted,  as  no  answer 


280  THE  AMETHYST  BOX 

was  made  to  his  knock.  "  Mr.  Armstrong  asked  me 
to  bring  it  to  you.  It  is  from  the  Bishop,  and  calls 
for  an  immediate  reply." 

There  was  a  stir  within,  but  the  door  did  not 
open.  Meanwhile,  I  had  sealed  and  thrust  forth  the 
letter  I  had  held  concealed  in  my  breast  pocket. 

"  Give  her  this,  too,"  I  signified,  and  pointed  to 
the  crack  under  the  door. 

He  took  the  letter,  laid  the  telegram  on  it,  and 
pushed  them  both  in.  Then  he  stood  up,  and  eyed 
the  unresponsive  panels  with  the  set  look  of  a  man 
who  does  not  easily  yield  his  purpose. 

"  I  will  wait  for  the  answer!  "  he  shouted  through 
the  keyhole,  and,  falling  back,  he  took  up  his  stand 
against  the  opposite  wall. 

I  could  not  keep  him  company  there.  Withdraw- 
ing into  a  big  dormer  window,  I  waited  with  beating 
heart  to  see  if  her  door  would  open.  Apparently 
not;  yet  as  I  still  lingered  I  heard  the  lock  turn, 
followed  by  the  sound  of  a  measured  but  hurried 
step.  Dashing  from  my  retreat,  I  reached  the  main 
hall  in  time  to  see  Miss  Murray  disappear  toward 
the  staircase.  This  was  well,  and  I  was  about  to 
follow,  when,  to  my  astonishment,  I  perceived  Dut- 
ton  standing  in  the  doorway  she  had  just  left,  staring 
down  at  the  floor  with  a  puzzled  look. 

"She  didn't  pick  up  the  letters!"  he  cried  in 
amazement.  "  She  just  walked  over  them.  \Yhr>t 
shall  I  do  now?  It's  the  strangest  thing  I  ever 
saw!" 

"  Take  them  to  the  little  boudoir  over  the  porch/' 


THE  AMETHYST  BOX  281 

I  suggested.  "  Mr.  Sinclair  is  there,  and  if  she  is 
not  on  her  way  to  join  him  now,  she  certainly  will 
be  soon." 

Without  a  word  Button  caught  up  the  letters  and 
made  for  the  stairs. 

Left  to  await  the  result,  I  found  myself  so  worked 
upon  that  I  wondered  how  much  longer  I  should 
be  able  to  endure  these  shifts  of  feeling  and 
constantly  recurring  moments  of  extreme  suspense. 
To  escape  the  torture  of  my  own  thoughts,  or, 
possibly,  to  get  some  idea  of  how  Dorothy  was  sus- 
taining an  ordeal  which  was  fast  destroying  my  own 
self-possession,  I  prepared  to  go  downstairs.  What 
was  my  astonishment,  in  passing  the  little  boudoir 
on  the  second  floor,  to  find  its  door  ajar  and  the 
place  empty.  Either  the  interview  between  Sinclair 
and  Gilbertine  had  been  very  much  curtailed,  or  it 
had  not  yet  taken  place.  With  a  heart  heavy  with 
forebodings  I  no  longer  sought  to  analyse,  I  made  my 
way  down,  and  reached  the  lower  step  of  the  great 
staircase  just  as  a  half-dozen  girls,  rushing  from 
different  quarters  of  the  hall,  surrounded  the  heavy 
form  of  Mr.  Armstrong  coming  from  his  own  little 
room. 

Their  questions  made  a  small  hubbub.  With  a 
good-natured  gesture  he  put  them  all  back,  and,  rais- 
ing his  voice,  said  to  the  assembled  crowd: 

"  It  has  been  decided  by  Miss  Murray  that,  under 
the  circumstances,  it  will  be  wiser  for  her  to  postpone 
the  celebration  of  her  marriage  to  some  time  and 
place  less  fraught  with  mournful  suggestions.  A 


282  THE  AMETHYST  BOX 

telegram  has  just  been  sent  to  the  Bishop  to  that 
effect,  and  while  we  all  suffer  from  this  disappoint- 
ment, I  am  sure  there  is  no  one  here  who  will  not 
see  the  propriety  of  her  decision." 

As  he  finished,  Gilbertine  appeared  behind  him. 
At  the  same  moment  I  caught,  or  thought  I  did,  the 
flash  of  Sinclair's  eye  from  the  recesses  of  the  room 
beyond;  but  I  could  not  stop  to  make  sure  of  this, 
for  Gilbertine's  look  and  manner  were  such  as  to 
draw  my  full  attention,  and  it  was  with  a  mixture  of 
almost  inexplicable  emotions  that  I  saw  her  thread 
her  way  among  her  friends,  in  a  state  of  high  feeling 
which  made  her  blind  to  their  outstretched  hands 
and  deaf  to  the  murmur  of  interest  and  sympathy 
which  instinctively  followed  her.  She  was  making 
for  the  stairs,  and  whatever  her  thoughts,  whatever 
the  state  of  her  mind,  she  moved  superbly,  in  her 
pale,  yet  seemingly  radiant  abstraction.  I  watched 
her,  fascinated,  yet  when  she  left  the  last  group  and 
began  to  cross  the  small  square  of  carpet  which  alone 
separated  us,  I  stepped  down  and  aside,  feeling  that 
to  meet  her  eye  just  them  without  knowing  what  had 
passed  between  her  and  Sinclair  would  be  cruel  to 
her  and  well-nigh  unbearable  to  myself. 

She  saw  the  movement  and  seemed  to  hesitate  an 
instant,  then  she  turned  for  one  brief  instant  in  my 
direction,  and  I  saw  her  smile.  Great  God!  it  was 
the  smile  of  innocence.  Fleeting  as  it  was,  the  pride 
that  was  in  it,  the  sweet  assertion  and  the  joy  were 
unmistakable.  I  felt  like  springing  to  Sinclair's  side 
in  the  gladness  of  my  relief,  but  there  was  no  time; 


THE  AMETHYST  BOX  283 

another  door  had  opened  down  the  hall,  another 
person  had  stepped  upon  the  scene,  and  Miss  Mur- 
ray, as  well  as  myself,  recognised  by  the  hush  which 
at  once  fell  upon  every  one  present  that  something 
of  still  more  startling  import  awaited  us. 

"  Mr.  Armstrong  and  ladies !  "  said  this  stranger 
— I  knew  he  was  a  stranger  by  the  studied  formality 
of  the  former's  bow — "  I  have  made  a  few  inquiries 
since  I  came  here  a  short  time  ago,  and  I  find  that 
there  is  one  young  lady  in  the  house  who  ought  to 
be  able  to  tell  me  better  than  any  one  else  under 
what  circumstances  Mrs.  Lansing  breathed  her  last. 
I  allude  to  her  niece,  who  slept  in  the  adjoining  room. 
Is  that  young  lady  here?  Her  name,  if  I  remember 
rightly,  is  Camerden — Miss  Dorothy  Camerden." 

A  movement  as  of  denial  passed  from  group  to 
group  down  the  hall,  and,  while  no  one  glanced 
toward  the  library  and  some  did  glance  upstairs,  I 
felt  the  dart  of  sudden  fear — or  was  it  hope — that 
Dorothy,  hearing  her  name  called,  would  leave  the 
conservatory  and  proudly  confront  the  speaker  in 
face  of  this  whole  suspicious  throng.  But  no  Doro- 
thy appeared.  On  the  contrary,  it  was  Gilbertine 
who  turned,  and,  with  an  air  of  authority  for  which 
no  one  was  prepared,  asked  in  tones  vibrating  with 
feeling: 

"  Has  this  gentleman  the  official  right  to  question 
who  was  and  who  was  not  with  my  aunt  when  she 
died?" 

Mr.  Armstrong,  who  showed  his  surprise  as  in- 
genuously as  he  did  every  other  emotion,  glanced  up 


284  THE  AMETHYST  BOX 

at  the  light  figure  hovering  over  them  from  the  stair- 
case, and  made  out  to  answer: 

"  This  gentleman  has  every  right,  Miss  Murray. 
He  is  the  coroner  of  the  town,  accustomed  to  in- 
quire into  all  cases  of  sudden  death." 

u  Then,"  she  vehemently  rejoined,  her  pale  cheeks 
breaking  out  into  a  scarlet  flush,  above  which  her 
eyes  shone  with  an  almost  unearthly  brilliancy,  "  do 
not  summon  Dorothy  Camerden.  She  is  not  the 
witness  you  want.  I  am.  I  am  the  one  who  uttered 
that  scream;  I  am  the  one  who  saw  our  aunt  die. 
Dorothy  cannot  tell  you  what  took  place  in  her  room 
and  at  her  bedside,  for  Dorothy  was  not  there;  but 
/  can." 

Amazed,  not  as  others  were,  at  the  assertion  itself, 
but  at  the  manner  and  publicity  of  the  utterance,  I 
contemplated  this  surprising  girl  in  ever-increasing 
wonder.  Always  beautiful,  always  spirited  and 
proud,  she  looked  at  that  moment  as  if  nothing  in 
the  shape  of  fear,  or  even  contumely,  could  touch 
her.  She  faced  the  astonishment  of  her  best  friends 
with  absolute  fearlessness,  and  before  the  general 
murmur  could  break  into  words,  added: 

"  I  feel  it  my  duty  to  speak  thus  publicly,  because, 
by  keeping  silent  so  long,  I  have  allowed  a  false 
impression  to  go  about.  Stunned  with  terror,  I  found 
it  impossible  to  speak  during  that  first  shock.  Be- 
sides, I  was  in  a  measure  to  blame  for  the  catas- 
trophe itself,  and  lacked  courage  to  own  it.  It  was 
I  who  took  the  little  crystal  flask  into  my  aunt's 
room.  I  had  been  fascinated  by  it  from  the  first, 


THE  AMETHYST  BOX  285 

fascinated  enough  to  long  to  see  it  closer,  and  to 
hold  it  in  my  hand.  But  I  was  ashamed  of  this 
fascination — ashamed,  I  mean,  to  have  any  one  know 
that  I  could  be  moved  by  such  a  childish  impulse : 
so,  instead  of  taking  the  box  itself,  which  might 
easily  be  missed,  I  simply  abstracted  the  tiny  vial, 
and,  satisfied  with  its  possession,  carried  it  about  till 
I  got  to  my  room.  Then,  when  the  house  was  quiet 
and  my  room-mate  asleep,  I  took  it  out  and  looked  at 
it,  and  feeling  an  irresistible  desire  to  share  my  amuse- 
ment with  my  cousin,  I  stole  to  her  room  by  means 
of  the  connecting  balcony,  just  as  I  had  done  many 
times  before  when  our  aunt  was  in  bed  and  asleep. 
But  unlike  any  previous  occasion,  I  found  the  room 
empty.  Dorothy  was  not  there;  but  as  the  light 
was  burning  high,  I  knew  she  would  soon  be  back, 
and  so  ventured  to  step  in. 

"  Instantly,  I  heard  my  aunt's  voice.  She  was 
awake,  and  wanted  something.  She  had  evidently 
called  before,  for  her  voice  was  sharp  with  impa- 
tience, and  she  used  some  very  harsh  words.  When 
she  heard  me  in  Dorothy's  room,  she  shouted  again, 
and,  as  I  have  always  been  accustomed  to  obey  her 
commands,  I  hastened  to  her  side,  with  the  little 
vial  concealed  in  my  hand.  As  she  expected  to  see 
Dorothy  and  not  me,  she  rose  up  in  unreasoning 
anger,  asking  where  my  cousin  was,  and  why  I  was 
not  in  bed.  I  attempted  to  answer  her,  but  she 
would  not  listen  to  me,  and  bade  me  turn  up  the 
gas.  which  I  did. 

"  Then,  with  her  eyes  fixed  on  mine  as  though  she 


286  THE  AMETHYST  BOX 

knew  I  was  trying  to  conceal  something  from  her, 
she  commanded  me  to  rearrange  her  hair  and  make 
her  more  comfortable.  This  I  could  not  do  with 
the  tiny  flask  still  in  my  hand,  so  with  a  quick  move- 
ment, which  I  hoped  would  pass  unobserved,  I  slid 
it  behind  some  bottles  standing  on  a  table  by  the 
bedside,  and  bent  to  do  what  she  required.  But  to 
attempt  to  escape  her  eyes  was  useless.  She  had  seen 
my  action,  and  at  once  began  to  feel  about  for  what 
I  had  attempted  to  hide  from  her.  Coming  in  con- 
tact with  the  tiny  flask,  she  seized  it,  and,  with  a 
smile  I  shall  never  forget,  held  it  up  between  us. 

1  What's  this?  '  she  cried,  showing  such  astonish- 
ment at  its  minuteness  and  perfection  of  shape  that 
it  was  immediately  apparent  she  had  heard  nothing 
of  the  amethyst  box  displayed  by  Mr.  Sinclair  in  the 
library.  '  I  never  saw  a  bottle  as  small  as  this  be- 
fore. What  is  in  it,  and  why  were  you  so  afraid  of 
my  seeing  it?  ' 

"  As  she  spoke  she  attempted  to  wrench  out  the 
stopper.  It  stuck,  so  I  was  in  hopes  she  would  fail 
in  the  effort,  but  she  was  a  woman  of  uncommon 
strength,  and  presently  it  yielded,  and  I  saw  the  vial 
open  in  her  hand. 

41  Aghast  with  terror,  I  caught  at  the  table  beside 
me,  fearing  to  drop  before  her  eyes.  Instantly  her 
look  of  curiosity  changed  to  one  of  suspicion,  and 
repeating,  '  What's  in  it?  What's  in  it?  '  she  raised 
the  flask  to  her  nostrils,  and  when  she  found  she 
could  make  out  nothing  from  the  smell,  lowered 
it  to  her  lips,  with  the  intention,  I  suppose,  of  deter- 


THE  AMETHYST  BOX  287 

mining  its  contents  by  tasting  them.  As  I  caught 
sight  of  this  fatal  action,  and  beheld  the  one  drop, 
which  Mr.  Sinclair  had  said  was  enough  to  kill  a 
man,  slip  from  its  hiding-place  of  centuries  into  her 
open  throat,  I  felt  as  if  the  poison  had  entered  my 
own  veins;  I  could  neither  speak  nor  move.  But 
when,  an  instant  later,  I  met  the  look  which  spread 
suddenly  over  her  face — a  look  of  horror  and  hatred, 
accusing  horror  and  unspeakable  hatred  mingled 
with  what  I  dimly  felt  must  mean  death — an  ago- 
nised cry  burst  from  my  lips,  after  which,  panic- 
stricken,  I  flew,  as  if  for  life,  back  by  the  way  I  had 
come,  to  my  own  room.  This  was  a  great  mistake. 
I  should  have  remained  with  my  aunt  and  boldly  met 
the  results  of  the  tragedy  which  my  folly  had  brought 
about.  But  terror  knows  no  law,  and  having  once 
yielded  to  the  instinct  of  concealment,  I  knew  no 
other  course  than  to  continue  to  maintain  an  apparent 
ignorance  of  what  had  just  occurred.  With  chatter- 
ing teeth  and  an  awful  numbness  at  my  heart,  I  tore 
off  my  wrapper  and  slid  into  bed.  Miss  Lane  had 
not  wakened,  but  every  one  else  had,  and  the  hall 
was  full  of  people.  This  terrified  me  still  more,  and 
for  the  moment  I  felt  that  I  could  never  own  the 
truth  and  bring  down  upon  myself  all  this  wonder 
and  curiosity.  So  I  allowed  a  wrong  impression 
of  the  event  to  go  about,  for  which  act  of  cowardice 
I  now  ask  the  pardon  of  every  one  here,  as  I  have  al- 
ready asked  that  of  Mr.  Sinclair  and  of  our  kind 
friend  Mr.  Armstrong." 

She  paused,  and  stood  for  a  moment  confronting 


288  THE  AMETHYST  BOX 

us  all  with  proud  eyes  and  flaming  cheeks,  then 
amid  a  hubbub  which  did  not  seem  to  affect  her  in 
the  least,  she  stepped  down,  and  approaching  the 
man  who,  she  had  been  told,  had  a  right  to  her  full 
confidence,  she  said,  loud  enough  for  all  who  wished 
to  hear  her: 

"  I  am  ready  to  give  you  whatever  further  infor- 
mation you  may  require.  Shall  I  step  into  the 
drawing-room  with  you?  " 

He  bowed,  and  as  they  disappeared  from  the  great 
hall  the  hubbub  of  voices  became  tumultuous. 

Naturally  I  should  have  joined  in  the  universal 
expressions  of  surprise  and  the  gossip  incident  to 
such  an  unexpected  revelation.  But  I  found  myself 
averse  to  any  kind  of  talk.  Till  I  could  meet  Sin- 
clair's eye  and  discern  in  it  the  happy  clearing-up  of 
all  his  doubts,  I  should  not  feel  free  to  be  my  own 
ordinary  and  sociable  self  again.  But  Sinclair 
showed  every  evidence  of  wishing  to  keep  in  the  back- 
ground; and  while  this  was  natural  enough,  so  far  as 
people  in  general  were  concerned,  I  thought  it  odd 
and  very  unlike  him  not  to  give  me  an  opportunity  to 
express  my  congratulations  at  the  turn  affairs  had 
taken  and  the  frank  attitude  assumed  by  Gilbertine. 
I  own  I  felt  much  disturbed  by  this  neglect,  and  as  the 
minutes  passed  and  he  failed  to  appear,  I  found  my 
satisfaction  in  her  explanations  dwindle  under  the 
consciousness  that  they  had  failed,  in  some  respects, 
to  account  for  the  situation;  and  before  I  knew  it  I 
was  the  prey  of  fresh  doubts,  which  I  did  my  best 
to  smother,  not  only  for  the  sake  of  Sinclair,  but 


THE  AMETHYST  BOX  289 

because  I  was  still  too  much  under  the  influence  of 
Gilbertine's  imposing  personality  to  wish  to  believe 
aught  but  what  her  burning  words  conveyed. 

She  must  have  spoken  the  truth,  but  was  it  the 
entire  truth?  I  hated  myself  for  asking  the  ques- 
tion; hated  myself  for  being  more  critical  with  her 
than  I  had  been  with  Dorothy,  who  certainly  had  not 
made  her  own  part  in  this  tragedy  as  clear  as  one 
who  loved  her  could  wish.  Ah,  Dorothy!  it  was 
time  some  one  told  her  that  Gilbertine  had  openly 
vindicated  her,  and  that  she  could  now  come  forth 
and  face  her  friends  without  hesitation  and  without 
dread.  Was  she  still  in  the  conservatory?  Doubt- 
less. But  it  would  be  better,  perhaps,  for  me  to 
make  sure. 

Approaching  the  place  by  the  small  door  connect- 
ing it  with  the  hallway  in  which  I  stood,  I  took  a 
hurried  look  within,  and,  seeing  no  one,  stepped 
boldly  down  between  the  palms  to  the  little  nook 
where  lovers  of  this  quiet  spot  were  accustomed  to 
sit.  It  was  empty,  and  so  was  the  library  beyond. 
Coming  back,  I  accosted  Dutton,  whom  I  found 
superintending  the  removal  of  the  potted  plants 
which  encumbered  the  passages,  and  asked  him  if  he 
knew  where  Miss  Camerden  was?  He  answered 
without  hesitation  that  she  had  stood  in  the  rear 
hall  a  little  while  before,  listening  to  Miss  Murray; 
that  she  had  then  gone  upstairs  by  the  spiral  stair- 
case, leaving  word  with  him  that  if  anybody  wanted 
her  she  would  be  found  in  the  small  boudoir  over  the 
porch. 


290  THE  AMETHYST  BOX 

I  thanked  him,  and  was  on  my  way  to  join  her 
when  Mr.  Armstrong  called  me.  He  must  have 
kept  me  a  half-hour  in  his  room  discussing  every 
aspect  of  the  affair  and  apologising  for  the  necessity 
which  he  now  felt  of  bidding  farewell  to  most  of 
his  guests,  among  whom,  he  was  careful  to  state,  he 
did  not  include  me.  Then,  when  I  thought  this 
topic  exhausted,  he  began  to  talk  about  his  wife,  and 
what  this  dreadful  occurrence  was  to  her,  and  how 
he  despaired  of  ever  reconciling  her  to  the  fact  that 
it  had  been  considered  necessary  to  call  in  a  coroner. 
Then  he  spoke  of  Sinclair,  but  with  some  constraint 
and  a  more  careful  choice  of  words,  at  which, 
realising  that  I  was  to  reap  nothing  from  this  inter- 
view, only  suffer  strong  and  continued  irritation  at  a 
delay  which  was  costing  me  the  inestimable  privilege 
of  being  the  first  to  tell  Dorothy  of  her  re-establish- 
ment in  every  one's  good  opinion,  I  exerted  myself 
for  release,  and  to  such  good  purpose  that  I  presently 
found  myself  again  in  the  hall,  where  the  first  person 
I  ran  against  was  Sinclair. 

He  started,  and  so  did  I,  at  this  unexpected  en- 
counter. Then  we  stood  still,  and  I  stared  at  him 
in  amazement,  for  everything  about  the  man  was 
changed,  and — inexplicable  fact! — in  nothing  was 
this  change  more  marked  than  in  his  attitude  toward 
myself.  Yet  he  tried  to  be  friendly  and  meet  me  on 
the  old  footing,  and  observed  as  soon  as  we  found 
ourselves  beyond  the  hearing  of  others: 

"  You  heard  what  Gilbertine  said.  There  is  no 
reason  for  doubting  her  words.  /  do  not  doubt 


THE  AMETHYST  BOX  291 

them,  and  you  will  show  yourself  my  friend  by  not 
doubting  them  either."  Then,  with  some  impetuos- 
ity and  a  gleam  in  his  eye  quite  foreign  to  its  natural 
expression,  he  pursued,  with  a  pitiful  effort  to  speak 
dispassionately:  "Our  wedding  is  postponed — in- 
definitely. There  are  reasons  why  this  seemed  best 
to  Miss  Murray.  To  you  I  will  say  that  postponed 
nuptials  seldom  culminate  in  marriage.  In  fact,  I 
have  just  released  Miss  Murray  from  all  obligations 
to  myself." 

The  stare  of  utter  astonishment  I  gave  him  pro- 
voked the  first  and  only  sneer  I  have  ever  seen  on 
his  face.  What  was  I  to  say — what  could  I  say,  in 
response  to  such  a  declaration,  following  so  imme- 
diately upon  his  warm  assertion  of  her  innocence? 
Nothing.  With  that  indefinable  chill  between  us, 
which  had  come  I  know  not  how,  I  felt  tongue-tied. 

He  saw  my  embarrassment,  possibly  my  emotion, 
for  he  smiled  somewhat  bitterly,  and  put  a  step  or 
so  between  us  before  he  remarked: 

"  Miss  Murray  has  my  good  wishes.  Out  of 
respect  to  her  position,  I  shall  show  her  a  friend's 
attention  while  we  remain  in  this  house.  That  is 
all  I  have  to  say,  Walter.  You  and  I  have  held  our 
last  conversation  on  this  subject." 

He  was  gone  before  I  had  sufficiently  recovered  to 
realise  that  in  this  conversation  I  had  had  no  part, 
neither  had  it  contained  any  explanation  of  the  very 
facts  which  had  once  formed  our  greatest  grounds 
for  doubt — namely,  Beaton's  dream;  the  smothered 
cry  uttered  behind  Sinclair's  shoulder  when  he  first 


292  THE  AMETHYST  BOX 

made  known  the  deadly  qualities  of  the  little  vial; 
and,  lastly,  the  strange  desire  acknowledged  to  by 
both  these  young  ladies,  to  touch  and  hold  an  object 
calculated  rather  to  repel  than  to  attract  the  normal 
feminine  heart. 

At  every  previous  stage  of  this  ever-shifting 
drama  my  instinct  had  been  to  set  my  wits  against 
the  facts,  and,  if  I  could,  puzzle  out  the  mystery. 
But  I  felt  no  such  temptation  now.  My  one  desire 
was  to  act,  and  that  immediately.  Dorothy,  for  all 
Gilbertine's  intimation  to  the  contrary,  held  in  her 
own  breast  the  key  to  the  enigma.  Otherwise  she 
would  not  have  ventured  upon  the  surprising  and 
necessarily  unpalatable  advice  to  Sinclair — an  advice 
he  seemed  to  have  followed — not  to  marry  Gil- 
bertine  Murray  at  the  time  proposed.  Nothing  short 
of  a  secret  acquaintanceship  with  facts  unknown  as 
yet  to  the  rest  of  us  could  have  nerved  her  to  such 
an  act. 

My  one  hope,  then,  of  understanding  the  matter 
lay  with  her.  To  seek  her  at  once  in  the  place 
where  I  had  been  told  she  awaited  me  seemed  the 
only  course  to  take.  If  any  real  gratitude  underlay 
the  look  of  trust  which  she  had  given  me  at  the 
termination  of  our  last  interview,  she  would  reward 
my  confidence  by  unbosoming  herself  to  me. 

I  was  at  the  door  of  the  boudoir  immediately 
upon  forming  this  resolution.  Finding  it  ajar,  I 
pushed  it  softly  open,  and  as  softly  entered.  To 
my  astonishment  the  place  was  very  dark.  Not  only 
had  the  shades  been  drawn  down,  but  the  shutters 


THE  AMETHYST  BOX  293 

had  been  closed,  so  that  it  was  with  difficulty  I  de- 
tected the  slight,  black-robed  figure  which  lay  face 
down  among  the  cushions  of  a  lounge.  She  had  evi- 
dently not  heard  my  entrance,  for  she  did  not  move; 
and,  struck  by  her  pathetic  attitude,  I  advanced  in  a 
whirl  of  feeling,  which  made  me  forget  all  con- 
ventionalities, and  everything  else,  in  fact,  but  that  I 
loved  her,  and  had  the  utmost  confidence  in  her 
power  to  make  me  happy.  Laying  my  hand  softly 
on  her  head,  I  tenderly  whispered: 

"  Look  up,  dear.  Whatever  barrier  may  have 
intervened  between  us  has  fallen.  Look  up  and  hear 
how  I  love  you." 

She  thrilled  as  a  woman  only  thrills  when  her 
secret  soul  is  moved,  and,  rising  with  a  certain  grand 
movement,  turned  her  face  upon  me,  glorious  with  a 
feeling  that  not  even  the  dimness  of  the  room  could 
hide. 

Why,  then,  did  my  brain  whirl  and  my  heart 
collapse? 

It  was  Gilbertine  and  not  Dorothy  who  stood 
before  me. 


IX 

IN  THE  LITTLE  BOUDOIR 

Never  had  a  suspicion  crossed  my  mind  of  any 
such  explanation  of  our  secret  troubles.  I  had  seen 
as  much  of  one  cousin  as  the  other  in  my  visits  to 
Mrs.  Lansing's  house,  but  Gilbertine  being  from 


294  THE  AMETHYST  BOX 

the  first  day  of  our  acquaintance  engaged  to  my 
friend  Sinclair,  I  naturally  did  not  presume  to  study 
her  face  for  any  signs  of  interest  in  myself,  even  if 
my  sudden  and  uncontrollable  passion  for  Dorothy 
had  left  me  the  heart  to  do  so.  Yet  now,  in  the 
light  of  her  unmistakable  smile,  of  her  beaming  eyes, 
from  which  all  troublous  thoughts  seemed  to  have 
fled  for  ever,  a  thousand  recollections  forced  them- 
selves upon  my  attention,  which  not  only  made  me 
bewail  my  own  blindness,  but  which  served  to  ex- 
plain the  peculiar  attitude  always  maintained  towards 
me  by  Dorothy,  and  many  other  things  which  a  mo- 
ment before  had  seemed  fraught  with  impenetrable 
mystery. 

All  this  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye.  Meanwhile, 
misled  by  my  words,  Gilbertine  drew  back  a  step, 
and,  with  her  face  still  bright  with  the  radiance  I 
have  mentioned,  murmured  in  low,  but  full-toned 
accents : 

"Not  just  yet;  it  is  too  soon.  Let  me  simply 
enjoy  the  fact  that  I  am  free,  and  that  the  courage 
to  win  my  release  came  from  my  own  suddenly 
acquired  trust  in  Mr.  Sinclair's  goodness.  Last 
night  " — and  she  shuddered — "  I  saw  only  another 
way — a  way  the  horrors  of  which  I  hardly  realised. 
But  God  saved  me  from  so  dreadful,  yea,  so  un- 
necessary a  crime,  and  this  morning " 

It  was  cruel  to  let  her  go  on — cruel  to  stand 
there  and  allow  this  ardent,  if  mistaken,  nature  to 
unfold  itself  so  ingenuously,  while  I,  with  ear  half 
turned  toward  the  door,  listened  for  the  step  of  her 


THE  AMETHYST  BOX  295 

whom  I  had  never  so  much  loved  as  at  that  moment, 
possibly  because  I  had  only  just  come  to  understand 
the  cause  of  her  seeming  vacillations.  My  instincts 
were  so  imperative,  my  duty  and  the  obligations  of 
my  position  so  unmistakable,  that  I  made  a  move  as 
Gilbertine  reached  this  point,  which  caused  her  first 
to  hesitate,  then  to  stop.  How  should  I  fill  up  this 
gap  of  silence?  How  tell  her  of  the  great,  the 
grievous  mistake  she  had  made?  The  task  was  one 
to  try  the  courage  of  stouter  souls  than  mine.  But 
the  thought  of  Dorothy  nerved  me;  perhaps  also 
my  real  friendship  and  commiseration  for  Sinclair. 

"  Gilbertine,"  I  began,  "  I  will  make  no  pretence 
of  misunderstanding  you.  The  situation  is  too  seri- 
ous, the  honour  which  you  do  me  too  great;  only,  I 
am  not  free  to  accept  that  honour.  The  words  which 
I  uttered  were  meant  for  your  cousin  Dorothy.  I 
expected  to  find  her  in  this  room.  I  have  long  loved 
your  cousin — in  secrecy,  I  own,  but  honestly  and 

with  every  hope  of  some  day  making  her  my  wife. 
j j » 

There  was  no  need  for  me  to  finish.  The  warm 
hand  turning  to  ice  in  my  clasp,  the  wide-open  blind- 
struck  eyes,  the  recoil,  the  maiden  flush  rising,  deep- 
ening, covering  cheek  and  chin  and  forehead,  then 
fading  out  again  till  the  whole  face  was  white  as 
marble  and  seemingly  as  cold — told  me  that  the 
blow  had  gone  home,  and  that  Gilbertine  Murray, 
the  unequalled  beauty,  the  petted  darling  of  a  society 
ready  to  recognise  every  charm  she  possessed  save  her 
ardent  nature  and  great  heart,  had  reached  the  height 


296  THE  AMETHYST  BOX 

of  her  many  miseries,  and  that  it  was  I  who  had 
placed  her  there. 

Overcome  with  pity,  but  conscious  also  of  a  pro- 
found respect,  I  endeavoured  to  utter  some  futile 
words,  which  she  at  once  put  an  end  to  by  an  appeal- 
ing gesture. 

"  You  can  say  nothing,"  she  began.  "  I  have 
made  an  awful  mistake,  the  worst  a  woman  can  make, 
I  think."  Then,  with  long  pauses,  as  though  her 
tongue  were  clogged  by  shame — perhaps  by  some 
deeper  if  less  apparent  feeling:  "You  love  Doro- 
thy. Does  Dorothy  love  you  ?  " 

My  answer  was  an  honest  one. 

"  I  have  dared  to  hope  so,  despite  the  little  oppor- 
tunity she  has  given  me  to  express  my  feelings. 
She  has  always  held  me  back,  and  that  very  de- 
cidedly, or  my  devotion  would  have  been  apparent  to 
everybody." 

"Oh,  Dorothy!" 

Regret,  sorrow,  infinite  tenderness,  all  were  au- 
dible in  that  cry.  Indeed,  it  seemed  as  if  for  the 
moment  her  thoughts  were  more  taken  up  with  her 
cousin's  unhappiness  than  with  her  own. 

"  How  I  must  have  made  her  suffer !  I  have  been 
a  curse  to  those  who  loved  me.  But  I  am  humbled 
now,  and  very  rightly." 

I  began  to  experience  a  certain  awe  of  this  great 
nature.  There  was  grandeur  even  in  her  contrition, 
and  as  I  took  in  the  expression  of  her  colourless 
features,  sweet  with  almost  an  unearthly  sweetness 
in  spite  of  the  anguish  consuming  her,  I  suddenly 


THE  AMETHYST  BOX  297 

realised  what  Sinclair's  love  for  her  must  be.  I  also 
as  suddenly  realised  the  depth  and  extent  of  his 
suffering.  To  call  such  a  woman  his,  to  lead  her 
almost  to  the  foot  of  the  altar,  and  then  to  see  her 
turn  aside  and  leave  him!  Surely  his  lot  was  an 
intolerable  one,  and  though  the  interference  I  had 
unconsciously  made  in  his  wishes  had  been  involun- 
tary, I  felt  like  cursing  myself  for  not  having  been 
more  open  in  my  attentions  to  the  girl  I  really  loved. 

Gilbertine  seemed  to  divine  my  thoughts,  for, 
pausing  at  the  door  she  had  unconsciously  ap- 
proached, she  stood  with  the  knob  in  her  hand,  and, 
with  averted  brow,  remarked  gravely: 

"  I  am  going  out  of  your  life.  Before  I  do  so, 
however,  I  should  like  to  say  a  few  words  in  pallia- 
tion of  my  conduct.  I  have  never  known  a  mother. 
I  early  fell  under  my  aunt's  charge,  who,  detesting 
children,  sent  me  away  to  school,  where  I  was  well 
enough  treated,  but  never  loved.  I  was  a  plain 
child,  and  felt  my  plainness.  This  gave  an  awkward- 
ness to  my  actions,  and  as  my  aunt  had  caused  it  to 
be  distinctly  understood  that  her  sole  intention  in 
sending  me  to  the  Academy  was  to  have  me  educated 
for  a  teacher,  my  position  awakened  little  interest, 
and  few  hearts,  if  any,  warmed  toward  me.  Mean- 
while, my  breast  was  filled  with  but  one  thought, 
one  absorbing  wish.  I  longed  to  love  passionately, 
and  be  passionately  loved  in  return.  Had  I  found  a 
mate — but  I  never  did.  I  was  not  destined  for  any 
such  happiness. 

"  Years  passed.    I  was  a  woman,  but  neither  my 


298  THE  AMETHYST  BOX 

happiness  nor  my  self-confidence  had  kept  pace  with 
my  growth.  Girls  who  once  passed  me  with  a  bare 
nod  now  stopped  to  stare,  sometimes  to  whisper 
comments  behind  my  back.  I  did  not  understand 
this  change,  and  withdrew  more  and  more  into 
myself  and  the  fairy-land  made  for  me  by  books. 
Romance  was  my  life,  and  I  had  fallen  into  the 
dangerous  habit  of  brooding  over  the  pleasures  and 
excitements  which  would  have  been  mine  had  I  been 
born  beautiful  and  wealthy,  when  my  aunt  suddenly 
visited  the  school,  saw  me,  and  at  once  took  me  away 
and  placed  me  in  the  most  fashionable  school  in  New 
York  City.  From  there  I  was  launched,  without  any 
word  of  motherly  counsel,  into  the  gay  society  you 
know  so  well.  Almost  with  my  coming  out  I  found 
the  world  at  my  feet,  and  though  my  aunt  showed 
me  no  love,  she  evinced  a  certain  pride  in  my  success, 
and  cast  about  to  procure  for  me  a  great  match. 
Mr.  Sinclair  was  the  victim.  He  visited  me,  took 
me  to  theatres,  and  eventually  proposed.  My  aunt 
was  in  ecstasies.  I,  who  felt  helpless  before  her  will, 
was  glad  that  the  husband  she  had  chosen  for  me 
was  at  least  a  gentleman,  and,  to  all  appearances, 
respectable  in  his  living  and  nice  in  his  tastes.  But 
he  was  not  the  man  I  had  dwelt  on  in  my  dreams; 
and  while  I  accepted  him  (it  was  not  possible  to  do 
anything  else,  with  my  aunt  controlling  every  action, 
if  not  every  thought),  I  cared  so  little  for  Mr. 
Sinclair  himself  that  I  forgot  to  ask  if  his  many 
attentions  were  the  result  of  any  real  feeling  on  his 
part,  or  only  such  as  he  considered  due  to  the  woman 


THE  AMETHYST  BOX  299 

he  expected  to  make  his  wife.  You  see  what  girls 
are.  How  I  despise  myself  now  for  this  miserable 
frivolity ! 

"  All  this  time  I  knew  that  I  was  not  my  aunt's 
only  niece;  that  Dorothy  Camerden,  whom  I  had 
never  met,  was  as  closely  related  to  her  as  myself. 
True  to  her  heartless  code,  my  aunt  had  placed  us 
in  separate  schools,  and  not  till  she  found  that  I  was 
to  leave  her,  and  that  soon  there  would  be  nobody  to 
see  that  her  dresses  were  bought  with  discretion,  and 
her  person  attended  to  with  something  like  care,  did 
she  send  for  Dorothy.  I  shall  never  forget  my  first 
impression  of  her.  I  had  been  told  that  I  need  not 
expect  much  in  the  way  of  beauty  and  style,  but  from 
my  first  glimpse  of  her  dear  face  I  saw  that  my  soul's 
friend  had  come,  and  that,  marriage  or  no  marriage, 
I  need  never  be  solitary  again. 

u  I  do  not  think  I  made  as  favourable  an  impres- 
sion on  my  cousin  as  she  did  on  me.  Dorothy  was 
new  to  elaborate  dressing  and  to  all  the  follies  of 
fashionable  life,  and  her  look  had  more  of  awe  than 
expectation  in  it.  But  I  gave  her  a  hearty  kiss,  and 
in  a  week  she  was  as  brilliantly  equipped  as  myself. 

"  I  loved  her,  but,  from  blindness  of  eye  or  an 
overwhelming  egotism  which  God  has  certainly  pun- 
ished, I  did  not  consider  her  beautiful.  This  I 
must  acknowledge  to  you,  if  only  to  complete  my 
humiliation.  I  never  imagined  for  a  moment,  even 
after  I  became  the  daily  witness  of  your  many  atten- 
tions to  her,  that  it  was  on  her  account  you  visited 
the  house  so  often.  I  had  been  so  petted  and  spoiled 


300  THE  AMETHYST  BOX 

since  entering  society  that  I  thought  you  were  kind 
to  her  simply  because  honour  forbade  you  to  be  too 
kind  to  me;  and  under  this  delusion  /  confided  my 
folly  to  Dorothy. 

"  You  will  have  many  a  talk  with  her  in  the  future, 
and  some  day  she  may  succeed  in  proving  to  you  that 
it  was  vanity  and  not  badness  of  heart  which  led  me 
to  misunderstand  your  feelings.  Having  repressed 
my  own  impulses  so  long,  I  saw  in  your  reticence 
the  evidences  of  a  like  struggle;  and  when,  immedi- 
ately upon  my  break  with  Mr.  Sinclair,  you  entered 

here  and  said  the  words  you  did Well,  we 

have  finished  with  this  subject  for  ever. 

"  The  explanations  which  I  gave  below  of  the  part 
I  played  in  my  aunt's  death  were  true.  I  only 
omitted  one  detail,  which  you  may  consider  a  very 
important  one.  The  fact  which  paralysed  my  hand 
and  voice  when  I  saw  her  lift  the  drop  of  death  to 
her  lips  was  this:  I  had  meant  to  die  by  this  drop 
myself,  in  Dorothy's  room,  and  with  Dorothy's  arms 
about  me.  This  was  my  secret — a  secret  which  no 
one  can  blame  me  for  keeping  as  long  as  I  could, 
and  one  which  I  should  hardly  have  the  courage  to 
disclose  to  you  now  if  I  had  not  already  parted  with 
it  to  the  coroner,  who  would  not  credit  my  story  till 
I  had  told  him  the  whole  truth." 

"  Gilbertine,"  I  urged,  for  I  saw  her  fingers  clos- 
ing upon  the  knob  she  had  held  lightly  till  now,  "  do 
not  go  till  I  have  said  this.  A  young  girl  does  not 
always  know  the  demands  of  her  own  nature.  The 
heart  you  have  ignored  is  one  in  a  thousand.  Do 


THE  AMETHYST  BOX  301 

not  let  it  slip  from  you.  God  never  gives  a  woman 
such  a  love  twice." 

"  I  know  it,"  she  murmured,  and  turned  the  knob. 

I  thought  she  was  gone,  and  let  the  sigh  which 
had  been  labouring  at  my  breast  have  vent,  when 
I  caught  one  last  word  whispered  from  the  threshold : 

"  Throw  back  the  shutters  and  let  in  the  light. 
Dorothy  is  coming.  I  am  going  now  to  call  her." 

An  hour  had  passed,  the  hour  of  hours  for  me,  for 
in  it  the  sun  of  my  happiness  rose  full-orbed,  and 
Dorothy  and  I  came  to  understand  each  other.  We 
were  sitting  hand  in  hand  in  this  blessed  little 
boudoir,  when  suddenly  she  turned  her  sweet  face 
toward  me  and  gently  remarked: 

"This  seems  like  selfishness  on  our  part;  but 
Gilbertine  insisted.  Do  you  know  what  she  is  doing 
now?  Helping  old  Mrs.  Cummings  and  holding 
Mrs.  Barnstable's  baby  while  her  maid  packs.  She 
will  work  like  that  all  day,  and  with  a  smile,  too. 
Oh,  it  is  a  rich  nature,  an  ideal  nature.  I  think  we 
can  trust  her  now." 

I  did  not  like  to  discuss  Gilbertine,  even  with 
Dorothy,  so  I  said  nothing.  But  she  was  too  full 
of  her  theme  to  stop.  I  think  she  wished  to  un- 
burden her  mind  once  and  for  ever  of  all  that  had 
disturbed  it. 

"  Our  aunt's  death,"  she  continued,  "  will  be  a  sort 
of  emancipation  for  her.  I  don't  think  you,  or  any 
one  out  of  our  immediate  household,  can  realise  the 
control  which  Aunt  Hannah  exerted  over  every  one 
who  came  within  her  daily  influence.  It  would  have 


302  THE  AMETHYST  BOX 

been  the  same  had  she  occupied  a  dependent  position 
instead  of  being  the  wealthy  autocrat  she  was.  In 
her  cold  nature  dwelt  an  imperiousness  which  no  one 
could  withstand.  You  know  how  her  friends,  some 
of  them  as  rich  and  influential  as  herself,  bowed  to 
her  will  and  submitted  to  her  interference.  What, 
then,  could  you  expect  from  two  poor  girls  entirely 
dependent  upon  her  for  everything  they  enjoyed? 
XJJilbertine,  with  all  her  spirit,  could  not  face  Aunt 
Hannah's  frown,  while  I  studied  to  have  no  wishes. 
Had  this  been  otherwise,  had  we  found  a  friend  in- 
stead of  a  tyrant  in  the  woman  who  took  us  into 
her  home,  Gilbertine  might  have  gained  more  control 
over  her  feelings.  It  was  the  necessity  she  felt  of 
smothering  her  natural  impulses,  and  of  maintaining 
in  the  house  and  before  the  world  an  appearance  of 
satisfaction  in  her  position  as  bride-elect,  which 
caused  her  to  fall  into  such  extremes  of  despondency 
and  deep  despair.  Her  self-respect  was  shocked. 
She  felt  she  was  a  living  lie,  and  hated  herself  in 
consequence. 

"  You  may  think  I  did  wrong  not  to  tell  her  of 
your  affection  for  myself,  especially  after  what  you 
whispered  into  my  ear  that  night  at  the  theatre.  I 
did  do  wrong;  I  see  it  now.  She  was  really  a 
stronger  woman  than  I  thought,  and  we  might  all 
have  been  saved  the  horrors  which  have  befallen  us 
had  I  acted  with  more  firmness  at  that  time.  But  I 
was  weak  and  frightened.  I  held  you  back  and  let 
her  go  on  deceiving  herself,  which  meant  deceiving 
Mr.  Sinclair,  too.  I  thought,  when  she  found  her- 


THE  AMETHYST  BOX  303 

self  really  married  and  settled  in  her  own  home,  she 
would  find  it  easier  to  forget,  and  that  soon,  perhaps 
very  soon,  all  this  would  seem  like  a  troubled  dream 
to  her.  And  there  was  reason  for  this  hope  on  my 
part.  She  showed  a  woman's  natural  interest  in  her 
outfit  and  the  plans  for  her  new  house,  but  when 
she  heard  you  were  to  be  Mr.  Sinclair's  best  man 
every  feminine  instinct  within  her  rebelled,  and  it 
was  with  difficulty  she  could  prevent  herself  from 
breaking  out  into  a  loud  '  No !  '  in  face  of  aunt  and 
lover.  From  this  moment  on  her  state  of  mind  grew 
desperate.  In  the  parlour,  at  the  theatre,  she  was 
the  brilliant  girl  whom  all  admired  and  many  en- 
vied; but  in  my  little  room  at  night  she  would  bury 
her  face  in  my  lap  and  talk  of  death,  till  I  moved  in 
a  constant  atmosphere  of  dread.  Yet,  because  she 
looked  gay  and  laughed,  I  turned  a  like  face  to  the 
world  and  laughed  also.  We  felt  it  was  expected 
of  us,  and  the  very  nervous  tension  we  were  under 
made  these  ebullitions  easy.  But  I  did  not  laugh  so 
much  after  coming  here.  One  night  I  found  her 
out  of  her  bed  long  after  every  one  else  had  retired 
for  the  night.  Next  morning  Mr.  Beaton  told  a 
dream — I  hope  it  was  a  dream — but  it  frightened 
me.  Then  came  that  moment  when  Mr.  Sinclair 
displayed  the  amethyst  box  and  explained  with  such 
a  nonchalant  air  how  a  drop  from  the  little  flask 
inside  would  kill  a  person.  A  toy,  but  so  deadly! 
I  felt  the  thrill  which  shot  like  lightning  through 
her,  and  made  up  my  mind  she  should  never  have 
the  opportunity  of  touching  that  box.  And  that  is 


304  THE  AMETHYST  BOX 

why  I  stole  into  the  library,  took  it  down  and  hid 
it  in  my  hair.  I  never  thought  to  look  inside;  I 
did  not  pause  to  think  that  it  was  the  flask  and  not 
the  box  she  wanted,  and  consequently  felt  convinced 
of  her  safety  so  long  as  I  kept  the  latter  successfully 
concealed  in  my  hair.  You  know  the  rest." 

Yes,  I  knew  it.  How  she  opened  the  box  in 
her  room  and  found  it  empty.  How  she  flew  to 
Gilbertine's  room,  and,  finding  the  door  unlocked, 
looked  in,  and  saw  Miss  Lane  lying  there  asleep, 
but  no  Gilbertine.  How  her  alarm  grew  at  this, 
and  how,  forgetting  that  her  cousin  often  stole  to 
her  room  by  means  of  the  connecting  balcony,  she 
had  wandered  over  the  house  in  the  hope  of  coming 
upon  Gilbertine  in  one  of  the  downstairs  rooms. 
How  her  mind  misgave  her  before  she  had  entered 
the  great  hall,  and  how  she  turned  back  only  to  hear 
that  awful  scream  go  up  as  she  was  setting  foot  upon 
the  spiral  stair.  I  had  heard  it  all  before,  and  could 
imagine  her  terror  and  dismay;  and  why  she  found 
it  impossible  to  proceed  any  further,  but  clung  to  the 
stair-rail,  half  alive  and  half  dead,  till  she  was  found 
there  by  those  seeking  her,  and  taken  up  to  her  aunt's 
room.  But  she  never  told  me,  and  I  do  not  yet 
know,  what  her  thoughts  or  feelings  were  when,  in- 
stead of  seeing  her  cousin  outstretched  in  death  on 
the  bed  they  led  her  to,  she  beheld  the  lifeless  figure 
of  her  aunt.  The  reserve  she  maintained  on  this 
point  has  always  been  respected  by  me.  Let  it  con- 
tinue to  be  so. 

When,  therefore,  she  said,  "  You  know  thr  rest/' 


THE  AMETHYST  BOX  305 

I  took  her  in  my  arms  and  gave  her  my  first  kiss. 
Then  I  softly  released  her,  and  by  tacit  consent  we 
each  went  our  way  for  that  day. 

Mine  took  me  into  the  hall  below,  which  was  all 
alive  with  the  hum  of  departing  guests.  Beaton  was 
among  them,  and  as  he  stepped  out  on  the  porch 
I  gave  him  a  parting  hand-clasp,  and  quietly 
whispered : 

"  When  all  dark  things  are  made  light,  you  will 
find  that  there  was  both  more  and  less  to  your  dream 
than  you  were  inclined  to  make  out." 

He  bowed,  and  that  was  the  last  word  which  ever 
passed  between  us  on  this  topic. 

But  what  chiefly  impressed  me  in  connection  with 
this  afternoon's  events  was  the  short  talk  I  had  with 
Sinclair.  I  fear  I  forced  this  talk,  but  I  could 
not  let  the  dreary  day  settle  into  still  drearier  night 
without  making  clear  to  him  a  point  which,  in  the 
new  position  he  held  toward  Gilbertine,  if  not  to- 
ward myself,  might  seem  to  be  involved  in  some 
doubt.  When,  therefore,  the  opportunity  came,  I 
accosted  him  with  these  words : 

"  It  is  not  a  very  propitious  time  for  me  to  intrude 
my  personal  affairs  upon  you,  but  I  feel  as  if  I  should 
like  you  to  know  that  the  clouds  have  been  cleared 
away  between  Dorothy  and  myself,  and  that  some 
day  we  expect  to  marry." 

He  gave  me  the  earnest  look  of  a  man  who  has 
recovered  his  one  friend.  Then  he  grasped  my  hand 
warmly,  saying,  with  something  like  his  old  fervour: 

"  You  deserve  all  the  happiness  that  awaits  you. 


306  THE  AMETHYST  BOX 

Mine  is  gone;  but  if  I  can  regain  it  I  will.  Trust 
me  for  that,  Worthington." 

The  coroner,  who  had  seen  much  of  life  and 
human  nature,  managed  with  much  discretion  the 
inquest  he  felt  bound  to  hold.  Mrs.  Lansing  was 
found  to  have  come  to  her  death  by  a  meddlesome 
interference  with  one  of  her  niece's  wedding  trinkets ; 
and,  as  every  one  acquainted  with  Mrs.  Lansing  knew 
her  to  be  quite  capable  of  such  an  act  of  malicious 
folly,  the  verdict  was  duly  accepted,  and  the  real 
heart  of  this  tragedy  closed  for  ever  from  every 
human  eye. 

As  we  were  leaving  Newport  Sinclair  stepped  up 
to  me. 

u  I  have  reason  to  know,"  said  he,  "  that  Mrs. 
Lansing's  bequests  will  be  a  surprise,  not  only  to 
her  nieces,  but  to  the  world  at  large.  Let  me  advise 
you  to  announce  your  engagement  before  reaching 
New  York." 

I  followed  his  advice,  and  in  a  few  days  under- 
stood why  it  had  been  given.  All  the  vast  property 
owned  by  this  woman  had  been  left  to  Dorothy. 
Gilbertine  had  been  cut  off  without  a  cent. 

We  never  knew  Mrs.  Lansing's  reason  for  this 
act.  Gilbertine  had  always  been  considered  her  fa- 
vourite, and,  had  the  will  been  a  late  one,  it  would 
have  been  generally  thought  that  she  had  left  her 
thus  unprovided  for  solely  in  consideration  of  the 
great  match  which  she  expected  her  to  make.  But 
the  will  was  dated  back  several  years — long  before 
Gilbertine  had  met  Mr.  Sinclair,  long  before  either 


THE  AMETHYST  BOX  307 

niece  had  come  to  live  with  Mrs.  Lansing  in  New 
York.  Had  it  always  been  the  latter's  wish,  then, 
to  enrich  the  one  and  slight  the  other?  It  would 
seem  so ;  but  why  should  the  slighted  one  have  been 
Gilbertine? 

The  only  explanation  I  ever  heard  given  was  the 
partiality  which  Mrs.  Lansing  felt  for  Dorothy's 
mother,  or,  rather,  her  lack  of  affection  for  Gilber- 
tine's.  Whether  or  not  this  is  the  true  one,  the 
discrimination  she  showed  in  her  will  put  poor 
Gilbertine  in  a  very  unfortunate  position.  At  least, 
it  would  have  done  so  if  Sinclair,  with  an  adroit- 
ness worthy  of  his  love,  had  not  proved  to  her 
that  a  break  at  this  time  in  their  supposed  relations 
would  reflect  most  seriously  upon  his  disinterested- 
ness, and  thus  secured  for  himself  opportunities  for 
urging  his  suit  which  ended,  as  such  opportunities 
often  do,  in  a  renewal  of  their  engagement.  But  this 
time  with  mutual  love  as  its  basis.  This  was  evi- 
dent to  any  one  who  saw  them  together.  But  how 
the  magic  was  wrought — how  this  hard-to-be-won 
heart  learned  at  last  its  true  allegiance  I  did  not 
know  till  later,  and  then  it  was  told  me  by  Gilber- 
tine herself. 

I  had  been  married  for  some  months  and  she  for 
some  weeks,  when  one  evening  chance  threw  us  to- 
gether. Instantly,  and  as  if  she  had  waited  for  this 
hour,  she  turned  upon  me  with  the  beautiful  smile 
which  has  been  hers  ever  since  her  new  happiness 
came  to  her,  and  said: 

"  You  once  gave  me  some  very  good  advice,  Mr. 


308  THE  AMETHYST  BOX 

Worthington ;  but  it  was  not  that  which  led  me  to 
realise  Mr.  Sinclair's  affection.  It  was  a  short  con- 
versation which  passed  between  us  on  the  day  my 
aunt's  will  was  read.  Do  you  remember  my  turning 
to  speak  to  him  the  moment  after  that  word  all  fell 
from  the  lawyer's  lips?  " 

"  Yes,  Mrs.  Sinclair." 

Alas !  did  I  not !  It  was  one  of  the  most  poignant 
memories  of  my  life.  The  look  she  gave  him  and 
the  look  he  gave  her !  Indeed,  I  did  remember. 

"  It  was  to  ask  him  one  question — a  question  to 
which  misfortune  only  could  have  given  so  much 
weight.  Had  my  aunt  taken  him  into  her  confidence  ? 
Had  he  known  that  I  had  no  place  in  her  will? 
His  answer  was  very  simple ;  a  single  word,  '  Al- 
ways.' But  after  that  do  I  need  to  say  why  I  am  a 
wife — why  I  am  his  wife?  " 


THE  GREY  LADY 


WAS  it  a  spectre? 

For  days  I  could  not  answer  this  question.  I  am 

no  believer  in  spiritual  manifestations,  yet But 

let  me  tell  my  story. 

I  was  lodging  with  my  wife  on  the  first  floor  of 
a  house  in  Twenty-seventh  Street.  I  had  taken  the 
apartments  for  three  months,  and  we  had  already 
lived  in  them  two  and  found  them  sufficiently  com- 
fortable. The  back  room  we  used  as  a  bedroom, 
and  as  we  received  but  few  friends,  the  two  great 
leaves  of  old  mahogany  connecting  the  rooms,  usually 
stood  wide  open. 

One  morning,  my  wife  being  ill,  I  left  her  lying  in 
bed  and  stepped  into  the  parlour  preparatory  to 
going  out  for  breakfast.  It  was  late — nine  o'clock 
probably — and  I  was  hastening  to  leave,  when  I 
heard  a  sound  behind  me — or  did  I  merely  feel  a 
presence? — and,  turning,  saw  a  strange  and  totally 
unknown  woman  coming  toward  me  from  my 
wife's  room. 

As  I  had  just  left  that  room,  and  as  there  was  no 
other  way  of  entrance  save  through  a  door  we 
always  kept  locked,  I  was  so  overpowered  by  my 
astonishment  that  I  never  thought  of  speaking  or 
moving  until  she  had  passed  me.  Then  I  found 
voice,  and  calling  out  "  Madam!  "  endeavoured  to 
stop  her. 

But  the  madam,  if  madam  she  was,  passed  on  as 
311 


3i2  THE  GREY  LADY 

quietly,  as  mechanically  even,  as  if  I  had  not  raised 
my  voice,  and  before  I  could  grasp  the  fact  that 
she  was  melting  from  before  me  flitted  through  the 
hall  to  the  front  door  and  so  out,  leaving  behind  on 
the  palm  of  my  hand  the  "  feel  "  of  her  wool  dress, 
which  I  had  just  managed  to  touch. 

Not  understanding  her  or  myself  or  the  strange 
thrill  awakened  by  this  contact,  I  tore  open  the  front 
door  and  looked  out,  expecting,  of  course,  to  see  her 
on  the  steps  or  on  the  sidewalk  in  front.  But  there 
was  no  one  of  her  appearance  visible,  and  I  came 
back  questioning  whether  I  was  the  victim  of  a  hal- 
lucination or  just  an  everyday  fool.  To  satisfy  my- 
self on  this  important  question  I  looked  about  for  the 
hallboy,  with  the  intention  of  asking  him  if  he  had 
seen  any  such  person  go  out,  but  that  young  and 
inconsequent  scamp  was  missing  from  his  post 
as  usual  and  there  was  no  one  within  sight  to  ap- 
peal to. 

There  was  nothing  to  do  but  to  re-enter  my  rooms, 
where  my  attention  was  immediately  arrested  by  the 
sight  of  my  wife  sitting  up  in  bed  and  surveying  me 
with  a  look  of  unmistakable  astonishment. 

"Who  was  that  woman?"  she  asked.  "And 
how  came  she  in  here?  " 

So  she  had  seen  her  too. 

"  What  woman,  Lydia  ?  I  have  not  let  in  any 
woman.  Did  you  think  there  was  a  woman  in  this 
room?  " 

"  Not  in  that  room,"  she  answered  hoarsely,  "  but 
in  this  one.  I  saw  her  just  now  passing  through  the 


THE  GREY  LADY  313 

folding  doors.  Wilbur,  I  am  frightened.  See  how 
my  hands  shake.  Do  you  think  I  am  sick  enough  to 
imagine  things?  " 

I  knew  she  was  not,  but  I  did  not  say  so.  I 
thought  it  would  be  better  for  her  to  think  herself 
under  some  such  delusion. 

"  You  were  dozing,"  said  I.  "  If  you  had  seen 
a  woman  here  you  could  tell  me  how  she  looked." 

"  And  I  can,"  my  wife  broke  in  excitedly.  "  She 
was  like  the  ghosts  we  read  of,  only  that  her  dress 
and  the  veil  or  drapery  she  wore  were  all  grey. 
Didn't  you  see  her?  You  must  have  seen  her.  She 
went  right  by  you — a  grey  woman,  all  grey;  a  lady, 
Wilbur,  and  slightly  lame.  Could  I  have  dreamed 
all  that?" 

"  You  must  have  I  "  I  protested,  shaking  the  door 
leading  directly  into  the  hall  so  she  might  see  it  was 
locked,  and  even  showing  her  the  key  to  it  lying 
in  its  accustomed  place  behind  the  bureau  cushion. 
Yet  I  was  in  no  satisfied  condition  myself,  for  she 
had  described  with  the  greatest  accuracy  the  very 
person  I  had  myself  seen.  Had  we  been  alike  the 
victims  of  a  spiritual  manifestation? 

This  was  Tuesday.  On  Friday  my  question 
seemed  to  receive  an  answer.  I  had  been  downtown, 
as  usual,  and  on  returning  found  a  crowd  assembled 
in  front  of  my  lodging-house.  A  woman  had  been 
run  over  and  was  being  carried  into  our  rooms.  In 
the  glimpse  I  caught  of  her  I  saw  that  she  was  mid- 
dle-aged and  was  wrapped  in  a  long  black  cloak. 
Later  this  cloak  fell  off,  as  her  hat  had  done  long 


3H  THE  GREY  LADY 

before,  and  I  perceived  that  her  dress  was  black  and 
decent. 

She  was  laid  on  our  bed  and  every  attention  paid 
her.  But  she  had  been  grievously  injured  about  the 
head  and  gradually  but  surely  sank  before  our  eyes. 
Suddenly  she  roused  and  gave  a  look  about  her.  It 
was  a  remarkable  one — a  look  of  recognition  and  al- 
most of  delight.  Then  she  raised  one  hand  and, 
pointing  with  a  significant  gesture  into  the  empty 
space  before  her,  sank  back  and  died. 

It  was  a  sudden  ending,  and,  anxious  to  see  its 
effect  upon  my  wife,  who  was  standing  on  the  other 
side  of  the  bed,  I  glanced  her  way  with  some  mis- 
giving. She  showed  more  feeling  than  I  had  antici- 
pated. Indeed  her  countenance  was  a  study,  and 
when,  under  the  influence  of  my  scrutiny,  she  glanced 
my  way,  I  saw  that  something  of  deeper  import  than 
this  unexpected  death  in  our  rooms  lay  at  the  bottom 
of  her  uneasy  look. 

What  that  was  I  was  soon  to  know,  for  catching 
up  from  amid  the  folds  of  the  woman's  grey-lined 
cloak  a  long  grey  veil  which  had  fallen  at  the  bed- 
side, she  disposed  it  softly  about  the  woman's  face, 
darting  me  a  look  full  of  significance. 

"  You  remember  the  vision  I  had  the  morning 
when  I  was  sick?  "  she  whispered  softly  in  my  ear. 

I  nodded,  secretly  thrilled  to  my  very  heart's 
core. 

"  Well,  it  was  a  vision  of  this  woman.  If  she 
were  living  and  on  her  feet  and  wrapped,  as  I  have 


THE  GREY  LADY  315 

shown  you,  in  this  veil,  you  would  behold  a  living 
picture  of  the  person  I  saw  passing  out  of  this  room 
that  morning." 

"I  shall  not  dispute  you,"  I  answered.  Alas!  I 
had  myself  perceived  the  likeness  the  instant  the 
veil  had  fallen  about  the  pinched  but  handsome 
features ! 

"A  forewarning,"  whispered  my  wife;  "  a  fore- 
warning of  what  has  this  day  happened  under  our 
roof.  It  was  a  wraith  we  saw.  Wilbur,  I  shall  not 
spend  another  night  in  these  rooms." 

And  we  did  not.  I  was  as  anxious  to  leave  as 
she  was.  Yet  I  am  not  a  superstitious  man.  As 
proof  of  it,  after  the  first  effect  of  these  events  had 
left  me  I  began  to  question  my  first  impressions  and 
feel  tolerably  ashamed  of  my  past  credulity. 
Though  the  phenomenon  we  had  observed  could  not 
to  all  appearance  be  explained  by  any  natural 
hypothesis ;  though  I  had  seen,  and  my  wife  had  seen, 
a  strange  woman  suddenly  become  visible  in  a  room 
which  a  moment  before  had  held  no  one  but  our- 
selves, and  into  which  no  live  woman  could  have 
entered  without  our  knowledge,  something — was  it 
my  natural  good  sense? — recoiled  before  a  super- 
natural explanation  of  this,  and  I  found  my- 
self forced  to  believe  that  our  first  visitor  had 
been  as  real  as  the  last;  in  other  words,  the  same 
woman. 

But  could  I  prove  it?  Could  the  seemingly  impos- 
sible be  made  possible  and  the  unexplainable  receive 
a  solution  satisfying  to  a  rational  mind?  I  deter- 


3i6  THE  GREY  LADY 

mined  to  make  an  effort  to  accomplish  this,  if  only 
to  relieve  the  mind  of  my  wife,  who  had  not  recov- 
ered her  equanimity  as  readily  as  myself. 

Starting  with  the  assumption  above  mentioned — 
that  the  woman  who  had  died  in  our  presence  was  the 
same  who  had  previously  found  an  unexplainable  en- 
trance into  our  rooms — I  first  inquired  if  the  black 
cloak  lined  with  grey  did  not  offer  a  solution  to 
some  of  my  previous  difficulties.  It  was  a  long 
cloak,  enveloping  her  completely.  When  worn  with 
the  black  side  out  she  would  present  an  incon- 
spicuous appearance,  but  with  the  grey  side  out  and 
the  effect  of  this  heightened  by  a  long  grey  veil 
hung  over  her  hat,  she  would  look  like  the  grey  lady 
I  had  first  seen.  Now,  a  cloak  can  be  turned  in  an 
instant,  and  if  she  had  chosen  to  do  this  in  flitting 
through  my  door  I  would  naturally  find  only  a 
sedate,  black-clothed  woman  passing  up  the  street, 
when,  rousing  from  the  apathy  into  which  her  ap- 
pearance had  thrown  me,  I  rushed  to  the  front  door 
and  looked  out.  Had  I  seen  such  a  woman?  I 
seemed  to  remember  that  I  had. 

Thus  much,  then,  was  satisfactory,  but  to  account 
for  her  entrance  into  our  rooms  was  not  so  easy- 
Had  she  slipped  by  me  in  coming  in  as  she  had  on 
going  out?  The  parlour  door  was  open,  for  I  had 
been  out  to  get  the  paper.  Could  she  have  glided 
in  by  me  unperceived  and  thus  found  her  way  into 
the  bedroom  from  which  I  afterward  saw  her  issue? 
No,  for  I  had  stood  facing  the  front  hall  door  all  the 
time.  Through  the  bedroom  door,  then?  But  that 


THE  GREY  LADY  31? 

was,  as  I  have  said,  locked.  Here,  then,  was  a  mys- 
tery; but  it  was  one  worth  solving. 

My  first  step  was  to  recall  all  that  I  had  heard 
of  the  actual  woman  who  had  been  buried  from  our 
rooms.  Her  name,  as  ascertained  in  the  cheap 
boarding-house  to  which  she  was  traced,  was  Hel- 
muth,  and  she  was,  so  far  as  any  one  knew,  without 
friends  or  relatives  in  the  city.  To  those  who  saw 
her  daily  she  was  a  harmless,  slightly  demented 
woman  with  money  enough  to  live  above  want,  but 
not  enough  to  warrant  her  boasting  talk  about  the 
rich  things  she  was  going  to  buy  some  day  and  the 
beautiful  presents  she  would  soon  be  in  a  position  to 
give  away.  The  money  found  on  her  person  was 
sutiicient  to  bury  her,  but  no  papers  were  in  her  pos- 
session nor  any  letters  calculated  to  throw  light  upon 
her  past  life. 

Her  lameness  had  been  caused  by  paralysis,  but 
the  date  of  her  attack  was  not  known. 

Finding  no  clue  in  this  to  what  I  wished  to  learn, 
I  went  back  to  our  old  rooms,  which  had  not  been 
let  since  our  departure,  and  sought  for  one  there, 
and,  strangely  enough,  found  it.  I  thought  I  knew 
everything  there  was  to  be  known  about  the  apart- 
ment we  had  lived  in  two  months,  but  one  little  fact 
had  escaped  me  which,  under  the  scrutiny  that  I  now 
gave  it,  became  apparent.  This  was  simply  that 
the  key  which  opened  the  hall  door  of  the  bedroom 
and  which  we  had  seldom  if  ever  used  was  not  as  old 
a  key  as  that  of  the  corresponding  door  in  the  par- 


3i8  THE  GREY  LADY 

lour,  and  this  fact,  small  as  it  was,  led  me  to  make 
inquiries. 

The  result  was  that  I  learned  something  about  the 
couple  who  had  preceded  us  in  the  use  of  these  rooms. 
They  were  of  middle  age  and  of  great  personal  ele- 
gance but  uncertain  pay,  the  husband  being  nothing 
more  nor  less  than  a  professional  gambler.  Their 
name  was  L'Hommedieu. 

When  I  first  heard  of  them  I  thought  that  Mrs. 
L'Hommedieu  might  be  the  Mrs.  Helmuth  in  whose 
history  I  was  so  interested,  but  from  all  I  could  learn 
she  was  a  very  different  sort  of  person.  Mrs. 
L'Hommedieu  was  gay,  dashing,  and  capable  of  mak- 
ing a  show  out  of  flimsy  silk  a  shopgirl  would  hesi- 
tate to  wear.  Yet  she  looked  distinguished  and  wore 
her  cheap  jewelry  with  more  grace  than  many  a 
woman  her  diamonds.  I  would,  consequently,  have 
dropped  this  inquiry  if  some  one  had  not  remarked 
upon  her  having  had  a  paralytic  stroke  after  leaving 
the  house.  This,  together  with  the  fact  that  the 
key  to  the  rear  door,  which  I  had  found  replaced  by 
a  new  one,  had  been  taken  away  by  her  and  never 
returned,  connected  her  so  indubitably  with  my  mys- 
terious visitor  that  I  resolved  to  pursue  my  investiga- 
tions into  Mrs.  L'Hommedieu's  past. 

For  this  purpose  I  sought  out  a  quaint  little  maiden 
lady  living  on  the  top  floor  who,  I  was  told,  knew 
more  about  the  L'Hommedieus  than  any  one  in  the 
building.  Miss  Winterburn,  whose  acquaintance  I 
had  failed  to  make  while  residing  in  the  house,  was 
a  fluttering,  eager,  affable  person  whose  one  delight 


THE  GREY  LADY  319 

was,  as  I  soon  found,  to  talk  about  the  L'Homme- 
dieus.  Of  the  story  she  related  I  give  as  much  of 
it  as  possible  in  her  own  words. 

"  I  was  never  their  equal,"  said  she,  "  but  Mrs. 
L'Hommedieu  was  lonely,  and,  having  no  friends  in 
town,  was  good  enough  to  admit  me  to  her  parlour 
now  and  then  and  even  to  allow  me  to  accompany 
her  to  the  theatre  when  her  husband  was  away  on 
one  of  his  mysterious  visits.  I  never  liked  Mr. 
L'Hommedieu,  but  I  did  like  her.  She  was  so  dif- 
ferent from  me,  and,  when  I  first  knew  her,  so  gay 
and  so  full  of  conversation.  But  after  a  while  she 
changed  and  was  either  feverishly  cheerful  or  mor- 
bidly sad,  so  that  my  visits  caused  me  more  pain  than 
pleasure.  The  reason  for  these  changes  in  her  was 
patent  to  everybody.  Though  her  husband  was  a 
handsome  man,  he  was  as  unprincipled  as  he  was 
unfortunate.  He  gambled.  This  she  once  admitted 
to  me,  and  while  at  long  intervals  he  met  with  some 
luck  he  more  often  returned  dispirited  and  with  that 
hungry,  ravaging  look  you  expect  to  see  in  a  wolf 
cheated  of  its  prey. 

"  I  used  to  be  afraid  he  would  strike  her  after 
some  one  of  these  disappointments,  but  I  do  not 
think  he  ever  did.  She  had  a  determined  character 
of  her  own,  and  there  have  been  times  when  I  have 
thought  he  was  as  much  afraid  of  her  as  she  was  of 
him.  I  became  sure  of  this  after  one  night.  Mrs. 
L'Hommedieu  and  myself  were  having  a  little  sup- 
per together  in  the  front  parlour  you  have  so  lately 
occupied.  It  was  a  very  ordinary  supper,  for  the 


320  THE  GREY  LADY 

L'Hommedieus'  purse  had  run  low,  and  Mrs. 
L'Hommedieu  was  not  the  woman  to  spend  much  at 
any  time  on  her  eating.  It  was  palatable,  however, 
and  I  would  have  enjoyed  it  greatly,  if  Mrs. 
L'Hommedieu  had  shown  more  appetite.  But  she 
ate  scarcely  anything  and  seemed  very  anxious  and 
unhappy,  though  she  laughed  now  and  then  with  sud- 
den gusts  of  mirth  too  hysterical  to  be  real.  It  was 
not  late,  and  yet  we  were  both  very  much  surprised 
when  there  came  a  knock  at  the  door,  followed  by 
the  entrance  of  a  visitor. 

"  Mrs.  L'Hommedieu,  who  was  always  la  grande 
dame,  rose  without  apparent  embarrassment  to  meet 
the  gentleman  who  entered,  though  I  knew  she  could 
not  help  but  feel  keenly  the  niggardly  appearance  of 
the  board  she  left  with  such  grace.  The  stranger — 
he  was  certainly  a  stranger;  this  I  could  see  by  the 
formality  of  her  manner — was  a  gentleman  of  ur- 
bane bearing  and  a  general  air  of  prosperity. 

"  I  remember  every  word  that  passed. 
'  '  My  name  is  Lafarge,'   said  he.     '  I  am,   or 
rather  have  been,  under  great  obligations  to  your 
husband,  and  I  have  come  to  discharge  my  debt.    Is 
he  at  home?' 

"  Mrs.  L'Hommedieu's  eye,  which  had  sparkled 
at  his  name,  dropped  suddenly  as  he  put  the  final 
question. 

"  *  I  am  sorry,'  she  returned  after  a  moment  of 
embarrassment,  '  but  my  husband  is  very  seldom 
home  evenings.  If  you  will  come  about  noon  some 
day ' 


THE  GREY  LADY  321 

1  Thank  you,'  said  he,  with  a  bright  smile,  '  but 
I  will  finish  my  business  now  and  with  you,  seeing  that 
Mr.  L'Hommedieu  is  not  at  home.  Years  ago — I 
am  sure  you  have  heard  your  husband  mention  my 
name — I  borrowed  quite  a  sum  of  money  from  him, 
which  I  have  never  paid.  You  recall  the  amount,  no 
doubt?' 

' '  I  have  heard  Mr.  L'Hommedieu  say  it  was  a 
thousand  dollars,'  she  replied,  with  a  sudden  flutter- 
ing of  her  hands  indicative  of  great  excitement. 

'  That  is  the  sum,'  he  allowed,  either  not  noticing 
me  or  thinking  me  too  insignificant  to  be  considered. 
'  I  regret  to  have  kept  him  so  long  out  of  it,  but  I 
have  not  forgotten  to  add  the  interest  in  making  out 
this  statement  of  my  indebtedness,  and  if  you  will 
look  over  this  paper  and  acknowledge  its  correctness 
I  will  leave  the  equivalent  of  my  debt  here  and  now, 
for  I  sail  for  Europe  to-morrow  morning  and  wish 
to  have  all  my  affairs  in  order  before  leaving.' 

"  Mrs.  L'Hommedieu,  who  looked  ready  to  faint 
from  excess  of  feeling,  summoned  up  her  whole 
strength,  looking  so  beautiful  as  she  did  so  that  one 
forgot  the  ribbons  on  her  sleeves  were  no  longer 
fresh  and  that  the  silk  dress  she  wore  hung  in  the 
very  limpest  of  folds. 

"  '  I  am  obliged  to  you,'  she  said  in  a  tone  from 
which  she  strove  in  vain  to  suppress  all  eagerness. 
4  And  if  I  can  speak  for  Mr.  L'Hommedieu  he  will 
be  as  grateful  for  your  remembrance  of  us  as  for  the 
money  you  so  kindly  offer  to  return  to  him.' 

"  The  stranger  bowed  low  and  took  ©ut  a  folded 


322  THE  GREY  LADY 

paper,  which  he  handed  to  her.  He  was  not  de- 
ceived, I  am  sure,  by  her  grand  airs,  and  knew  as 
well  as  I  did  that  no  woman  ever  stood  in  greater 
need  of  money.  But  nothing  in  his  manner  betrayed 
this  knowledge. 

'  It  is  a  bond  I  give  you,'  he  now  explained. 
'  As  you  will  see,  it  has  coupons  attached  to  it  which 
you  can  cash  at  any  time.  It  will  prove  as  valuable 
to  you  as  so  much  ready  money  and  possibly  more 
convenient.' 

"  And  with  just  this  hint,  which  I  took  as  signifi- 
cant of  his  complete  understanding  of  her  position,  he 
took  her  receipt  and  politely  left  the  house. 

"  Once  alone  with  me,  who  am  nobody,  her  joy 
had  full  vent.  I  have  never  seen  any  one  so  lost  in 
delight  as  she  was  for  a  few  minutes.  To  have  this 
money  thrust  upon  her  just  at  a  moment  when  actual 
want  seemed  staring  her  in  the  face  was  too  much  of 
a  relief  for  her  to  conceal  either  the  misery  she  had 
been  under  or  the  satisfaction  she  now  enjoyed. 
Under  the  gush  of  her  emotions  her  whole  history 
came  out,  but  as  you  have  often  heard  the  like  I  will 
not  repeat  it,  especially  as  it  was  all  contained  in 
the  cry  with  which  a  little  later  she  thrust  the  bond 
into  my  hand. 

"  *  He  must  not  see  it!  He  must  not!  It  would 
go  like  all  the  rest,  and  I  should  again  be  left  without 
a  cent.  Take  it  and  keep  it,  for  I  have  no  means  of 
concealing  it  here.  He  is  too  suspicious.' 

"  But  this  was  asking  more  than  I  was  willing  to 
grant.  Seeing  how  I  felt,  she  took  the  paper  back 


THE  GREY  LADY  323 

and  concealed  it  in  her  bosom  with  a  look  I  had 
rather  not  have  seen.  '  You  will  not  charge  yourself 
with  such  a  responsibility,'  said  she.  '  But  I  can  trust 
you  not  to  tell  him?  ' 

'  Yes,'  I  nodded,  feeling  sick  of  the  whole  busi- 
ness. 

4  Then '     But  here  the  door  was  violently 

flung  open  and  Mr.  L'Hommedieu  burst  into  the 
room  in  a  state  of  as  much  excitement  as  his  wife, 
only  his  was  the  excitement  of  desperation. 

'  *  Gone  1  Gone !  '  he  cried,  ignoring  me  as  com- 
pletely as  Mr.  Lafarge  had  done.  '  Not  a  dollar 
left;  not  even  my  studs!  See! '  And  he  pointed  to 
his  shirt-front  hanging  apart  in  a  way  I  would  never 
have  looked  for  in  this  reckless  but  fastidious  gentle- 
man. '  Yet  if  I  had  had  a  dollar  more  or  even  a  ring 

worth  a  dollar  or  so,  I  might  have Theresa, 

have  you  any  money  at  all?  A  coin  now  might  save 
us.' 

"  Mrs.  L'Hommedieu,  who  had  turned  alarmingly 
pale,  drew  up  her  fine  figure  and  resolutely  con- 
fronted him.  '  No !  '  said  she,  and  shifting  her  gaze 
she  turned  it  meaningly  upon  me. 

"  He  misunderstood  this  movement.  Thinking  it 
simply  a  reminder  of  my  presence,  he  turned,  with 
his  false  but  impressive  show  of  courtesy,  and  made 
me  a  low  bow.  Then  he  forgot  me  utterly  again, 
and,  facing  his  wife,  growled  out: 

"  'Where  are  you  going  to  get  breakfast  then? 
You  don't  look  like  a  woman  who  expects  to  starve  1 ' 

"  It  was  a  fatal  remark,  for,  do  what  she  would, 


324  THE  GREY  LADY 

she  could  not  prevent  a  slight  smile  of  disdain,  and, 
seeing  it,  he  kept  his  eye  riveted  on  her  face  till  her 
uneasiness  became  manifest.  Instantly  his  suspicion 
took  form,  and,  surveying  her  still  more  fixedly,  he 
espied  a  corner  of  the  precious  envelope  protruding 
slightly  above  her  corsage.  To  snatch  it  out,  open 
it,  and  realise  its  value  was  the  work  of  a  moment. 
Her  cry  of  dismay  and  his  shout  of  triumph  rang 
out  simultaneously,  and  never  have  I  seen  such  an 
ebullition  of  opposing  passions  as  I  was  made  wit- 
ness to  as  his  hand  closed  over  this  small  fortune 
and  their  staring  eyes  met  in  the  moral  struggle  they 
had  now  entered  upon  for  its  ultimate  possession. 

"  She  was  the  first  to  speak.  '  It  was  given  to  me, 
it  was  meant  for  me.  If  I  keep  it  both  of  us  will 
profit  by  it,  but  if  you 

"  He  did  not  wait  for  her  to  finish.  '  Where  did 
you  get  it? '  he  cried.  '  I  can  break  the  bank  with 
what  I  can  raise  on  this  bond  at  the  club.  Dar- 
raugh's  in  town.  You  know  what  that  means. 

Luck's  in  the  air,  and  with  a  hundred  dollars 

But  I've  no  time  to  talk.  I  came  for  a  dollar,  a 
fifty-cent  piece,  a  dime  even,  and  go  back  with  a  bond 
worth ' 

"  But  she  was  already  between  him  and  the  door. 
4  You  will  never  carry  that  bond  out  of  this  house/ 
she  whispered  in  the  tone  which  goes  further  than  a 
cry.  *  I  have  not  held  it  in  my  hand  to  see  it  follow 
every  other  good  thing  I  have  had  in  life.  I  will 
not,  Henry.  Take  that  bond  and  sink  it  as  you  have 
all  the  rest  and  I  fall  at  your  feet  a  dead  woman.  I 


THE  GREY  LADY  325 

will  never  survive  the  destruction  of  my  last  hope.' 

"He  was  cowed — for  a  moment,  that  is;  she 
looked  so  superb  and  so  determined.  Then  all  that 
was  mean  and  despicable  in  his  thinly  veneered  na- 
ture came  to  the  surface,  and,  springing  forward 
with  an  oath,  he  was  about  to  push  her  aside,  when, 
without  the  moving  of  a  finger  on  her  part,  he  reeled 
back,  recovered  himself,  caught  at  a  chair,  missed  it, 
and  fell  heavily  to  the  floor. 

1  '  My  God,  I  thank  thee !  '  was  the  exclamation 
with  which  she  broke  from  the  trance  of  terror  into 
which  she  had  been  thrown  by  his  sudden  attempt  to 
pass  her;  and  without  a  glance  at  his  face,  which  to 
me  looked  like  the  face  of  a  dead  man,  she  tore  the 
paper  from  his  hand  and  stood  looking  about  her 
with  a  wild  and  searching  gaze,  in  the  desperate  hope 
that  somehow  the  walls  would  open  and  offer  her 
a  safe  place  of  concealment  for  the  precious  sheet  of 
paper. 

"  Meanwhile  I  had  crept  near  the  prostrate  man. 
He  was  breathing,  but  was  perfectly  unconscious. 

'  '  Don't  you  mean  to  do  something  for  him?  ' 
I  asked.  *  He  may  die.' 

"  She  met  my  question  with  the  dazed  air  of  one 
suddenly  awakened.  *  No,  he'll  not  die ;  but  he'll  not 
come  to  for  some  minutes,  and  this  must  be  hidden 
first.  But  where?  where?  I  cannot  trust  it  on  my 
person  or  in  any  place  a  man  like  him  would  search. 
I  must  devise  some  means — ah  1 ' 

"  With  this  final  exclamation  she  had  dashed  into 
the  other  room.  I  did  not  see  where  she  went — I  did 


326  THE  GREY  LADY 

not  want  to — but  I  soon  realised  she  was  working 
somewhere  in  a  desperate  hurry.  I  could  hear  her 
breath  coming  in  quick,  short  pants  as  I  bent  over 
her  husband,  waiting  for  him  to  rouse  and  hating  my 
inaction  even  while  I  succumbed  to  it. 

"  Suddenly  she  was  back  in  the  parlour  again,  and 
to  my  surprise  passed  immediately  to  the  little  table 
in  the  corner  where  we  had  sat  at  supper.  We  had 
had  for  our  simple  refreshment  that  homeliest  of 
all  dishes,  boiled  milk  thickened  with  flour.  There 
was  still  some  left  in  a  bowl,  and  taking  this  away 
with  her  she  called  back  hoarsely: 

"  '  Pray  that  he  does  not  come  to  till  I  have  fin- 
ished. It  will  be  the  best  prayer  you  ever  made.' 

"  She  told  me  afterward  that  he  was  subject  to 
these  attacks  and  that  she  had  long  ceased  to  be 
alarmed  by  them.  But  to  me  the  sight  of  that  man 
lying  there  so  helpless  was  horrible,  and,  though  I 
hated  him  and  pitied  her,  I  scarcely  knew  what  to 
wish.  While  battling  with  my  desire  to  run  and  the 
feeling  of  loyalty  which  held  me  kneeling  at  that 
man's  side,  I  heard  her  speak  again,  this  time  in  an 
even  and  slightly  hard  tone :  *  Now  you  may  dash  a 
glass  of  cold  water  in  his  face.  I  am  prepared  to 
meet  him  now.  Happily  his  memory  fails  after  these 
attacks.  I  may  succeed  in  making  him  believe  that 
the  bond  he  saw  was  one  of  his  fancies.' 

"  *  Had  you  not  better  throw  the  water  yourself?  ' 
I  suggested,  getting  up  and  meeting  her  eye  very 
quietly. 

"  She  looked  at  me  in  wonder,  then  moved  calmly 


THE  GREY  LADY  327 

to  the  table,  took  the  glass,  and  dashed  a  few  drops 
of  water  into  her  husband's  face.  Instantly  he  be- 
gan to  stir,  seeing  which  I  arose  without  haste,  but 
without  any  unnecessary  delay,  and  quickly  took  my 
leave.  I  could  bear  no  more  that  night. 

"  Next  morning  I  awoke  in  a  fright.  I  had 
dreamed  that  he  had  come  to  my  room  in  search  of 
the  bond.  But  it  was  only  her  knock  at  the  door 
and  her  voice  asking  if  she  might  enter  at  this  early 
hour.  It  was  such  a  relief  I  gladly  let  her  in,  and 
she  entered  with  her  best  air  and  flung  herself  on  my 
little  lounge  with  the  hysterical  cry: 

'  '  He  has  sent  me  up.  I  told  him  I  ought  not  to 
intrude  at  such  an  inconvenient  hour;  that  you  would 
not  have  had  your  breakfast.'  (How  carelessly  she 
spoke !  How  hard  she  tried  to  keep  the  hungry  note 
out  of  her  voice!)  '  But  he  insisted  on  my  coming 
up.  I  know  why.  He  searched  me  before  I  left 
the  room,  and  now  he  wants  to  search  the  room 
itself.' 

"  '  Then  he  did  remember?  '  I  began. 

"  '  Yes,  he  remembers  now.  I  saw  it  in  his  eyes  as 
soon  as  he  awoke.  But  he  will  not  find  the  bond. 
That  is  safe,  and  some  day  when  I  have  escaped  his 
vigilance  long  enough  to  get  it  back  again  I  will  use 
it  so  as  to  make  him  comfortable  as  well  as  myself. 
I  am  not  a  selfish  woman.' 

"  I  did  not  think  she  was,  and  felt  pity  for  her, 
and  so  after  dressing  and  making  her  a  cup  of  tea,  I 
sat  down  with  her,  and  we  chatted  for  an  hour  or  so 
quite  comfortably.  Then  she  grew  so  restless  and 


328  THE  GREY  LADY 

consulted  the  clock  so  often  that  I  tried  to  soothe 
her  by  remarking  that  it  was  not  an  easy  task  he  had 
set  himself,  at  which  she  laughed  in  a  mysterious 
way,  but  failed  to  grow  less  anxious  till  our  suspense 
was  cut  short  by  the  appearance  of  the  janitor  with 
a  message  from  Mr.  L'Hommedieu. 

1 '  Mr.  L'Hommedieu's  compliments,'  said  he, 
1  and  he  hopes  Mrs.  L'Hommedieu  will  make  herself 
comfortable  and  not  think  of  coming  down.  He  is 
doing  everything  that  is  necessary  and  will  soon  be 
through.  You  can  rest  quite  easy,  ma'am.' 

'What  does  he  mean?'  marvelled  the  poor 
woman  as  the  janitor  disappeared.  *  Is  he  spending 
all  this  time  ransacking  the  rooms?  I  wish  I  dared 
disobey  him.  I  wish  I  dared  go  down.' 

"  But  her  courage  was  not  equal  to  an  open  dis- 
regard of  his  wishes,  and  she  had  to  subdue  her  impa- 
tience and  wait  for  a  summons  that  did  not  come 
till  near  two  o'clock.  Then  Mr.  L'Hommedieu  him- 
self appeared  with  her  hat  and  mantle  on  his  arm. 

1 '  My  dear,'  said  he  as  she  rose,  haggard  with 
excitement,  to  meet  him,  '  I  have  brought  your  wraps 
with  me  that  you  may  go  directly  from  here  to  our 
new  home.  Shall  I  assist  you  to  put  them  on?  You 
do  not  look  as  well  as  usual,  and  that  is  why  I  have 
undertaken  this  thing  all  myself — to  save  you,  my 
dear;  to  save  you  each  and  every  exertion.' 

"  I  had  flung  out  my  arms  to  catch  her,  for  I 
thought  she  was  going  to  faint,  but  she  did  not, 
though  I  think  it  would  have  been  better  for  her  if 
she  had. 


THE  GREY  LADY  329 

"  *  We  are  going  to  leave  this  house  ?  '  she  asked, 
speaking  very  slowly  and  with  a  studied  lack  of  emo- 
tion that  imposed  upon  nobody. 

'  *  I  have  said  so,'  he  smiled.  '  The  dray  has 
already  taken  away  the  half  of  our  effects,  and  the 
rest  will  follow  at  Mrs.  Latimer's  convenience.' 

"  '  Ah,  I  understand !  '  she  replied,  with  a  gasp  of 
relief  significant  of  her  fear  that  by  some  super- 
human cunning  he  had  found  the  bond  she  thought 
so  safely  concealed.  '  I  was  wondering  how  Mrs. 
Latimer  came  to  allow  us  to  leave.'  (I  tell  you  they 
always  talked  as  if  I  were  not  present.)  '  Our  goods 
are  left  as  a  surety,  it  seems.' 

1  '  Half   of   our   goods,'    he   blandly   corrected. 

*  Would  it  interest  you  to  know  which  half?  ' 

"  The  cunning  of  this  insinuation  was  matched 
by  the  imperturbable  shrug  with  which  she  replied, 

*  So  a  bed  has  been  allowed  us  and  some  clothes  I 
am  satisfied,'  at  which  he  bit  his  lips,  vexed  at  her 
self-control  and  his  own  failure  to  break  it. 

"  '  You  have  not  asked  where  we  are  going,'  he 
observed,  as  with  apparent  solicitude  he  threw  her 
mantle  over  her  shoulders. 

"  The  air  of  lassitude  with  which  she  replied  be- 
spoke her  feeling  on  that  point.  '  I  have  little  curi- 
osity,' she  said.  '  You  know  I  can  be  happy  any- 
where.' And,  turning  toward  me,  she  moved  her 
lips  in  a  way  I  interpreted  to  mean :  *  Go  below  with 
me.  See  me  out.' 

'  '  Say  what  you  have  to  say  to  Miss  Winterburn 
aloud,'  he  drily  suggested. 


330  THE  GREY  LADY 

"  *  I  have  nothing  to  say  to  Miss  Winterburn  but 
thanks,'  was  her  cold  reply,  belied,  however,  by  the 
trembling  of  her  fingers  as  she  essayed  to  fit  on  her 
gloves. 

"  '  And  those  I  will  receive  below !  '  I  cried,  with 
affected  gaiety.  *  I  am  going  down  with  you  to  the 
door.'  And  resolutely  ignoring  his  frown  I  tripped 
down  before  them.  On  the  last  stair  I  felt  her  steps 
lagging.  Instantly  I  seemed  to  comprehend  what 
was  required  of  me,  and,  rushing  forward,  I  entered 
the  front  parlour.  He  followed  close  behind  me, 
for  how  could  he  know  I  was  not  in  collusion  with 
her  to  regain  the  bond?  This  gave  her  one  minute 
by  herself  in  the  rear,  and  in  that  minute  she  secured 
the  key  which  would  give  her  future  access  to  the 
spot  where  her  treasure  lay  hidden. 

"  The  rest  of  the  story  I  must  give  you  mainly 
from  hearsay.  You  must  understand  by  this  time 
what  Mr.  L'Hommedieu's  scheme  was  in  moving  so 
suddenly.  He  knew  that  it  would  be  impossible  for 
him,  by  the  most  minute  and  continuous  watchful- 
ness, to  prevent  his  wife  from  recovering  the  bond 
while  they  continued  to  inhabit  the  rooms  in  which, 
notwithstanding  his  failure  to  find  it,  he  had  reason  to 
believe  it  still  lay  concealed.  But  once  in  other  quar- 
ters it  would  be  comparatively  easy  for  him  to  sub- 
ject her  to  a  surveillance  which  not  only  would  pre- 
vent her  from  returning  to  this  house  without  his 
knowledge,  but  would  lead  her  to  give  away  her 
secret  by  the  very  natural  necessity  she  would  be 


THE  GREY  LADY  331 

under  of  going  to  the  exact  spot  where  her  treasure 
lay  hid. 

"  It  was  a  cunning  plot  and  showed  him  to  be  as 
able  as  he  was  unscrupulous.  How  it  worked  I  will 
now  proceed  to  tell  you.  It  must  have  been  the  next 
afternoon  that  the  janitor  came  running  up  to  me — 
I  suppose  he  had  learned  by  this  time  that  I  had 
more  than  ordinary  interest  in  these  people — to  say 
that  Mrs.  L'Hommedieu  had  been  in  the  house  and 
had  been  so  frightened  by  a  man  who  had  followed 
her  that  she  had  fainted  dead  away  on  the  floor. 
Would  I  go  down  to  her? 

"  I  had  rather  have  gone  anywhere  else,  unless  it 
was  to  prison;  but  duty  cannot  be  shirked,  and  I 
followed  the  man  down.  But  we  were  too  late. 
Mrs.  L'Hommedieu  had  recovered  and  gone  away, 
and  the  person  who  had  frightened  her  was  also 
gone,  and  only  the  hallboy  remained  to  give  any 
explanations. 

"  This  was  what  he  had  to  say: 

"  '  The  man  it  was  who  went  first.  As  soon  as 
the  lady  fell  he  skipped  out.  I  don't  think  he  meant 
no  good  here ' 

"  *  Did  she  drop  here  in  the  hall?  '  I  asked,  unable 
to  restrain  my  intense  anxiety. 

"  '  Oh,  no,  ma'am !  They  was  in  the  back  room 
yonder,  which  she  got  in  somehow.  The  man  fol- 
lowed her  in,  sneaking  and  sneaking  like  an  eel  or  a 
cop,  and  she  fell  right  against — 

"  *  Don't  tell  me  where !  '  I  cried.  *  I  don't  want 
to  know  where ! '  And  I  was  about  to  return  up- 


332  THE  GREY  LADY 

stairs  when  I  heard  a  quick,  sharp  voice  behind  me 
and  realised  that  Mr.  L'Hommedieu  had  come  in  and 
was  having  some  dispute  with  the  janitor. 

"  Common  prudence  led  me  to  listen.  He  wanted, 
as  was  very  natural,  to  enter  the  room  where  his 
wife  had  just  been  surprised,  but  the  janitor,  alarmed 
by  the  foregoing  very  irregular  proceedings,  was 
disposed  to  deny  his  right  to  do  so. 

'  The  furniture  is  held  as  a  surety,'  said  he,  '  and 
I  have  orders ' 

"  But  Mr.  L'Hommedieu  had  a  spare  dollar,  and 
before  many  minutes  had  elapsed  I  heard  him  go  into 
that  room  and  close  the  door.  Of  the  next  ten  min- 
utes and  the  suspense  I  felt  I  need  not  speak.  When 
he  came  out  again,  he  looked  as  if  the  ground  would 
not  hold  him. 

'  '  I  have  done  some  mischief,  I  fear,'  he  airily 
said  as  he  passed  the  janitor.  '  But  I'll  pay  for  it. 
Don't  worry.  I'll  pay  for  it  and  the  rent,  too,  to- 
morrow. You  may  tell  Mrs.  Latimer  so.'  And  he 
was  gone,  leaving  us  all  agape  in  the  hallway. 

"  A  minute  later  we  all  crept  to  that  room  and 
looked  in.  Now  that  he  had  got  the  bond  I  for  one 
was  determined  to  know  where  she  had  hid  it. 
There  was  no  mistaking  the  spot.  A  single  glance 
was  enough  to  show  us  the  paper  ripped  off  from  a 
portion  of  the  wall,  revealing  a  narrow  gap  behind 
the  baseboard  large  enough  to  hold  the  bond.  It  was 
near " 

"  Wait!  "  I  put  in  as  I  remembered  where  the  so- 
called  Mrs.  Helmuth  had  pointed  just  before  she 


THE  GREY  LADY  333 

died.  "  Wasn't  it  at  the  left  of  the  large  folding 
doors  and  midway  to  the  wall?  " 

"  How  came  you  to  know?"  she  asked.  "Did 
Mrs.  Latimer  tell  you?  "  But  as  I  did  not  answer 
she  soon  took  up  the  thread  of  her  narrative  again, 
and,  sighing  softly,  said: 

"  The  next  day  came  and  went,  but  no  L'Homme- 
dieu  appeared;  another,  and  I  began  to  grow  seri- 
ously uneasy;  a  third,  and  a  dreadful  thing  hap- 
pened. Late  in  the  afternoon  Mrs.  L'Hommedieu, 
dressed  very  oddly,  came  sliding  in  at  the  front  door, 
and  with  an  appealing  smile  at  the  hallboy,  who 
wished  but  dared  not  ask  her  for  the  key  which  made 
these  visits  possible,  glided  by  to  her  old  rooms,  and, 
finding  the  door  unlocked,  went  softly  in.  Her  ap- 
pearance is  worth  description,  for  it  shows  the  pitiful 
efforts  she  made  at  disguise,  in  the  hope,  I  suppose, 
of  escaping  the  surveillance  she  was  evidently  con- 
scious of  being  under.  She  was  in  the  habit  of  wear- 
ing on  cool  days  a  black  circular  with  a  grey  lining.- 
This  she  had  turned  inside  out  so  that  the  gray  was 
uppermost;  while  over  her  neat  black  bonnet  she  had 
flung  a  long  veil,  also  grey,  which  not  only  hid  her 
face,  but  gave  her  appearance  an  eccentric  look  as 
different  as  possible  from  her  usual  aspect.  The  hall- 
boy,  who  had  never  seen  her  save  in  showy  black  or 
bright  colours,  said  she  looked  like  a  ghost  in  the  day- 
time, but  it  was  all  done  for  a  purpose,  I  am  sure, 
and  to  escape  the  attention  of  the  man  who  had  fol- 
lowed her  before.  Alas,  he  might  have  followed 
her  this  time  without  addition  to  her  suffering! 


334  THE  GREY  LADY 

Scarcely  had  she  entered  the  room  where  her  treas- 
ure had  been  left  than  she  saw  the  torn  paper  and 
gaping  baseboard,  and,  uttering  a  cry  so  piercing  it 
found  its  way  even  to  the  stolid  heart  of  the  hall- 
boy,  she  tottered  back  into  the  hall,  where  she  fell 
into  the  arms  of  her  husband,  who  had  followed  her 
in  from  the  street  in  a  state  of  frenzy  almost  equal  to 
her  own. 

"  The  janitor,  who  that  minute  appeared  on  the 
stairway,  says  that  he  never  saw  two  such  faces. 
They  looked  at  each  other  and  were  speechless.  He 
was  the  first  to  hang  his  head. 

'  *  It  is   gone,   Henry/   she   whispered.      '  It   is 
gone.    You  have  taken  it.' 

"  He  did  not  answer. 

"  *  And  it  is  lost!  You  have  risked  it,  and  it  is 
lost!' 

"  He  uttered  a  groan.  '  You  should  have  given 
it  to  me  that  night.  There  was  luck  in  the  air  then. 
Now  the  devil  is  in  the  cards  and ' 

"  Her  arms  went  up  with  a  shriek.  '  My  curse  be 
upon  you,  Henry  L'Hommedieu !  '  And  whether  it 
was  the  look  with  which  she  uttered  this  imprecation, 
or  whether  there  was  some  latent  love  left  in  his 
heart  for  this  long-suffering  and  once  beautiful 
woman,  he  shrank  at  her  words,  and,  stumbling  like 
a  man  in  the  darkness,  uttered  a  heart-rending  groan, 
and  rushed  from  the  house.  We  never  saw  him 
again. 

"  As  for  her,  she  fell  this  time  under  a  paralytic 
attack  which  robbed  her  of  her  faculties.  She  was 


THE  GREY  LADY  335 

taken  to  a  hospital,  where  I  frequently  visited  her, 
but  either  from  grief  or  the  effect  of  her  attack  she 
did  not  know  me,  nor  did  she  ever  recognise  any  of 
us  again.  Mrs.  Latimer,  who  is  a  just  woman,  sold 
her  furniture  and,  after  paying  herself  out  of  the 
proceeds,  gave  the  remainder  to  the  hospital  nurses 
for  the  use  of  Mrs.  L'Hommedieu,  so  that  when  she 
left  them  she  had  something  with  which  to  start  life 
anew.  But  where  she  went  or  how  she  managed  to 
get  along  in  her  enfeebled  condition  I  do  not  know. 
I  never  heard  of  her  again." 

"  Then  you  did  not  see  the  woman  who  died  in 
these  rooms?  "  I  asked. 

The  effect  of  these  words  was  magical  and  led  to 
mutual  explanations.  She  had  not  seen  that  woman, 
having  encountered  all  the  sorrow  she  wished  to  in 
that  room.  Nor  was  there  any  one  else  in  the  house 
at  this  time  likely  to  recognise  Mrs.  L'Homme- 
dieu, the  janitor  and  hallboy  both  being  new  and 
Mrs.  Latimer  one  of  those  proprietors  who  are  only 
seen  on  rent  day.  For  the  rest,  Mrs.  L'Homme- 
dieu's  defective  memory,  which  had  led  her  to 
haunt  the  house  and  room  where  the  bond  had 
once  been  hidden,  accounted  not  only  for  her  first 
visit,  but  the  last,  which  had  ended  so  fatally.  The 
cunning  she  showed  in  turning  her  cloak  and  flinging 
a  veil  over  her  hat  was  the  cunning  of  a  partially 
clouded  mind.  It  was  a  reminiscence  of  the  morning 
when  her  terrible  misfortune  occurred.  My  habit  of 
taking  the  key  out  of  the  lock  of  that  unused  door 
made  the  use  of  her  own  key  possible,  and  her  fear 


336  THE  GREY  LADY 

of  being  followed  caused  her  to  lock  the  door  behind 
her.  My  wife,  who  must  have  fallen  into  a  doze 
on  my  leaving  her,  did  not  see  her  enter,  but  detected 
her  just  as  she  was  trying  to  escape  through  the 
folding  doors.  My  presence  in  the  parlour  probably 
added  to  her  embarrassment,  and  she  fled,  turning 
her  cloak  as  she  did  so. 

How  simple  it  seemed  now  that  we  knew  the  facts ; 
but  how  obscure,  and,  to  all  appearance,  unexplain- 
able,  before  the  clue  was  given  to  the  mystery ! 


THE  THIEF 


"  AND  now,  if  you  have  all  seen  the  coin  and  suffi- 
ciently admired  it,  you  may  pass  it  back.  I  make  a 
point  of  never  leaving  it  off  the  shelf  for  more  than 
fifteen  minutes." 

The  half  dozen  or  more  guests  seated  about  the 
board  of  the  genial  speaker,  glanced  casually  at 
each  other  as  though  expecting  to  see  the  object 
mentioned  immediately  produced. 

But  no  coin  appeared. 

"  I  have  other  amusements  waiting,"  suggested 
their  host,  with  a  smile  in  which  even  his  wife  could 
detect  no  signs  of  impatience.  "  Now  let  Robert 
put  it  back  into  the  cabinet." 

Robert  was  the  butler. 

Blank  looks,  negative  gestures,  but  still  no  coin. 

"  Perhaps  it  is  in  somebody's  lap,"  timidly  ven- 
tured one  of  the  younger  women.  "  It  doesn't  seem 
to  be  on  the  table." 

Immediately  all  the  ladies  began  lifting  their  nap- 
kins and  shaking  out  the  gloves  which  lay  under 
them,  in  an  effort  to  relieve  their  own  embarrassment 
and  that  of  the  gentlemen  who  had  not  even  so  simple 
a  resource  as  this  at  their  command. 

"  It  can't  be  lost,"  protested  Mr.  Sedgwick,  with 
an  air  of  perfect  confidence.  "  I  saw  it  but  a  minute 
ago  in  somebody's  hand.  Darrow,  you  had  it;  what 
did  you  do  with  it?  " 

"  Passed  it  along." 

339 


340  THE  THIEF 

"  Well,  well,  it  must  be  under  somebody's  plate 
or  doily."  And  he  began  to  move  about  his  own 
and  such  dishes  as  were  within  reach  of  his 
hand. 

Each  guest  imitated  him,  lifting  glasses  and  turn- 
ing over  spoons  till  Mr.  Sedgwick  himself  bade 
them  desist.  "  It's  slipped  to  the  floor,"  he  non- 
chalantly concluded.  "  A  toast  to  the  ladies, 
and  we  will  give  Robert  the  chance  of  looking 
for  it." 

As  they  drank  this  toast,  his  apparently  careless, 
but  quietly  astute,  glance  took  in  each  countenance 
about  him.  The  coin  was  very  valuable  and  its  loss 
would  be  keenly  felt  by  him.  Had  it  slipped  from  the 
table  some  one's  eye  would  have  perceived  it,  some 
hand  would  have  followed  it.  Only  a  minute  or  two 
before,  the  attention  of  the  whole  party  had  been 
concentrated  upon  it.  Darrow  had  held  it  up  for  all 
to  see,  while  he  discoursed  upon  its  history.  He 
would  take  Darrow  aside  at  the  first  opportunity  and 

ask  him But — it!  how  could  he  do  that? 

These  were  his  intimate  friends.  He  knew  them 

well,  more  than  well,  with  one  exception,  and  he 

Well,  he  was  the  handsomest  of  the  lot  and  the  most 
debonair  and  agreeable.  A  little  more  gay  than 
usual  to-night,  possibly  a  trifle  too  gay,  considering 
that  a  man  of  Mr.  Blake's  social  weight  and  business 
standing  sat  at  the  board ;  but  not  to  be  suspected,  no, 
not  to  be  suspected,  even  if  he  was  the  next  man  after 
Darrow  and  had  betrayed  something  like  confusion 
when  the  eyes  of  the  whole  table  turned  his  way  at 


THE  THIEF  341 

the  former's  simple  statement  of  "  I  passed  it  on." 
Robert  would  find  the  coin;  he  was  a  fool  to  doubt 
it;  and  if  Robert  did  not,  why,  he  would  simply  have 
to  pocket  his  chagrin,  and  not  let  a  triviality  like  this 
throw  a  shadow  over  his  hospitality. 

All  this,  while  he  genially  lifted  his  glass  and  pro- 
posed the  health  of  the  ladies.  The  constraint  of  the 
preceding  moment  was  removed  by  his  manner,  and 
a  dozen  jests  caused  as  many  merry  laughs.  Then 
he  pushed  back  his  chair. 

"  And  now,  some  music !  "  he  cheerfully  cried,  as 
with  lingering  glances  and  some  further  pokings 
about  of  the  table  furniture,  the  various  guests  left 
their  places  and  followed  him  into  the  adjoining 
room. 

But  the  ladies  were  too  nervous  and  the  gentlemen 
not  sufficiently  sure  of  their  voices  to  undertake  the 
entertainment  of  the  rest  at  a  moment  of  such  ac- 
knowledged suspense ;  and  notwithstanding  the  exer- 
tions of  their  host  and  his  quiet  but  much  discomfited 
wife,  it  soon  became  apparent  that  but  one  thought 
engrossed  them  all,  and  that  any  attempt  at  conversa- 
tion must  prove  futile  so  long  as  the  curtains  between 
the  two  rooms  remained  open  and  they  could  see 
Robert  on  his  hands  and  knees  searching  the  floor 
and  shoving  aside  the  rugs. 

Darrow,  who  was  Mr.  Sedgwick's  brother-in-law 
and  almost  as  much  at  home  in  the  house  as  Sedg- 
wick  himself,  made  a  move  to  draw  these  curtains, 
but  something  in  his  relative's  face  stopped  him  and 
he  desisted  with  some  laughing  remark  which  did 


342  THE  THIEt 

not  attract  enough  attention,  even,  to  elicit  any  re- 
sponse. 

"  I  hope  his  eyesight  is  good,"  murmured  one  of 
the  young  girls,  edging  a  trifle  forward.  "  Mayn't  I 
help  him  look?  They  say  at  home  that  I  am  the 
only  one  in  the  house  who  can  find  anything." 

Mr.  Sedgwick  smiled  indulgently  at  the  speaker, 
(a  round-faced,  round-eyed,  merry-hearted  girl  whom 
in  days  gone  by  he  had  dandled  on  his  knees),  but 
answered  quite  quickly  for  him : 

"  Robert  will  find  it  if  it  is  there."  Then,  dis- 
tressed at  this  involuntary  disclosure  of  his  thought, 
added  in  his  whole-hearted  way:  "  It's  such  a  little 
thing,  and  the  room  is  so  big  and  a  round  object 
rolls  unexpectedly  far,  you  know.  Well,  have  you 
got  it?  "  he  eagerly  demanded,  as  the  butler  finally 
showed  himself  in  the  door. 

"  No,  sir;  and  it's  not  in  the  dining-room.  I  have 
cleared  the  table  and  thoroughly  searched  the  floor." 

Mr.  Sedgwick  knew  that  he  had.  He  had  no 
doubts  about  Robert.  Robert  had  been  in  his  em- 
ploy for  years  and  had  often  handled  his  coins  and, 
at  his  order,  sometimes  shown  them. 

"  Very  well,"  said  he,  "  we'll  not  bother  about 
it  any  more  to-night;  you  may  draw  the  cur- 
tains." 

But  here  the  clear,  almost  strident  voice  of  the 
youngest  man  of  the  party  interposed. 

"  Wait  a  minute,"  said  he.  "  This  especial  coin 
is  the  great  treasure  of  Mr.  Sedgwick's  valuable  col- 
lection. It  is  unique  in  this  country,  and  not  only 


THE  THIEF  343 

worth  a  great  deal  of  money,  but  cannot  be  dupli- 
cated at  any  cost.  There  are  only  three  of  its  stamp 
in  the  world.  Shall  we  let  the  matter  pass,  then,  as 
though  it  were  of  small  importance?  I  feel  that 
we  cannot;  that  we  are,  in  a  measure,  responsible  for 
its  disappearance.  Mr.  Sedgwick  handed  it  to  us  to 
look  at,  and  while  it  was  going  through  our  hands 
it  vanished.  What  must  he  think?  What  has  he 
every  right  to  think?  I  need  not  put  it  into  words; 
you  know  what  you  would  think,  what  you  could 
not  help  but  think,  if  the  object  were  yours  and  it  was 
lost  in  this  way.  Gentlemen — I  leave  the  ladies  en- 
tirely out  of  this — I  do  not  propose  that  he  shall 
have  further  opportunity  to  associate  me  with  this 
very  natural  doubt.  I  demand  the  privilege  of 
emptying  my  pockets  here  and  now,  before  any  of 
us  have  left  his  presence.  I  am  a  connoisseur  in 
coins  myself  and  consequently  find  it  imperative  to 
take  the  initiative  in  this  matter.  As  I  propose  to 
spare  the  ladies,  let  us  step  back  into  the  dining- 
room.  Mr.  Sedgwick,  pray  don't  deny  me;  I'm  thor- 
oughly in  earnest,  I  assure  you." 

The  astonishment  created  by  this  audacious  propo- 
sition was  so  great,  and  the  feeling  it  occasioned  so 
intense,  that  for  an  instant  all  stood  speechless. 
Young  Hammersley  was  a  millionaire  himself,  and 
generous  to  a  fault,  as  all  knew.  Under  no  circum- 
stances would  any  one  even  suspect  him  of  appropri- 
ating anything,  great  or  small,  to  which  he  had  not  a 
perfect  right.  Nor  was  he  likely  to  imagine  for  a 
moment  that  any  one  would.  That  he  could  make 


344  THE  THIEF 

such  a  proposition  then,  based  upon  any  such  plea, 
argued  a  definite  suspicion  in  some  other  quarter, 
which  could  not  pass  unrecognised.  In  vain  Mr. 
Sedgwick  raised  his  voice  in  frank  and  decided  pro- 
test, two  of  the  gentlemen  had  already  made  a  quick 
move  toward  Robert,  who  still  stood,  stupefied  by 
the  situation,  with  his  hand  on  the  cord  which  con- 
trolled the  curtains. 

"  He  is  quite  right,"  remarked  one  of  these,  as  he 
passed  into  the  dining-room.  "  I  shouldn't  sleep  a 
wink  to-night  if  this  question  remained  unsettled." 
The  other,  the  oldest  man  present,  the  financier  of 
whose  standing  and  highly  esteemed  character  I  have 
already  spoken,  said  nothing,  but  followed  in  a  way 
to  show  that  his  mind  was  equally  made  up. 

The  position  in  which  Mr.  Sedgwick  found  him- 
self placed  was  far  from  enviable.  With  a  glance 
at  the  two  remaining  gentlemen,  he  turned  towards 
the  ladies  now  standing  in  a  close  group  at  the  other 
end  of  the  room.  One  of  them  was  his  wife,  and  he 
quivered  internally  as  he  noted  the  deep  red  of  her 
distressed  countenance.  But  it  was  the  others  he 
addressed,  singling  out,  with  the  rare  courtesy  which 
was  his  by  nature,  the  one  comparative  stranger, 
Darrow's  niece,  a  Rochester  girl,  who  could  not  be 
finding  this,  her  first  party  in  Boston,  very  amusing. 

"  I  hope  you  will  appreciate  the  dilemma  in  which 
I  have  been  placed  by  these  gentlemen,"  he  began, 
"  and  will  pardon — 

But  here  he  noticed  that  she  was  not  in  the  least 
;  her  eyes  were  on  the  handsome  figure 


THE  THIEF  345 

of  Hugh  Clifford,  her  uncle's  neighbour  at  table, 
who  in  company  with  Mr.  Hammersley  was  still 
hesitating  in  the  doorway.  As  Mr.  Sedgwick  stopped 
his  useless  talk,  the  two  passed  in  and  the  sound  of 
her  fluttering  breath  as  she  finally  turned  a  listening 
ear  his  way,  caused  him  to  falter  as  he  repeated  his 
assurances  and  begged  her  indulgence. 

She  answered  with  some  conventional  phrase  which 
he  forgot  while  crossing  the  room.  But  the  remem- 
brance of  her  slight  satin-robed  figure,  drawn  up  in 
an  attitude  whose  carelessness  was  totally  belied 
by  the  anxiety  of  her  half-averted  glance,  followed 
him  into  the  presence  of  the  four  men  awaiting  him. 
Four?  I  should  say  five,  for  Robert  was  still  there, 
though  in  a  corner  by  himself,  ready,  no  doubt,  to 
share  any  attempt  which  the  others  might  make  to 
prove  their  innocence. 

"  The  ladies  will  await  us  in  the  music-room," 
announced  the  host  on  entering;  and  then  paused, 
disconcerted  by  the  picture  suddenly  disclosed  to  his 
eye.  On  one  side  stood  the  two  who  had  entered 
first,  with  their  eyes  fixed  in  open  sternness  on  young 
Clifford,  who,  quite  alone  on  the  rug,  faced  them  with 
a  countenance  of  such  pronounced  pallor  that  there 
seemed  to  be  nothing  else  in  the  room.  As  his 
features  were  singularly  regular  and  his  almost  per- 
fect mouth  accentuated  by  a  smile  as  set  as  his  figure 
was  immobile,  the  effect  was  so  startling  that  not 
only  Mr.  Sedgwick,  but  every  other  person  present, 
no  doubt,  wished  that  the  plough  had  never  turned 


346  THE  THIEF 

the  furrow  which  had  brought  this  wretched  coin  to 
light. 

However,  the  affair  had  gone  too  far  now  for 
retreat,  as  was  shown  by  Mr.  Blake,  the  elderly 
financier  whom  all  were  ready  to  recognise  as  the 
chief  guest  there.  With  an  apologetic  glance  at  Mr. 
Hammersley,  the  impetuous  young  millionaire  who 
had  first  proposed  this  embarrassing  procedure,  he 
advanced  to  an  empty  side-table  and  began,  in  a  quiet, 
business-like  way,  to  lay  on  it  the  contents  of  his 
various  pockets.  As  the  pile  rose,  the  silence  grew, 
the  act  in  itself  was  so  simple,  the  motive  actuating 
it  so  serious  and  out  of  accord  with  the  standing  of 
the  company  and  the  nature  of  the  occasion.  When 
all  was  done,  he  stepped  up  to  Mr.  Sedgwick,  with 
his  arms  raised  and  held  out  from  his  body. 

"  Now  accommodate  me,"  said  he,  "  by  running 
your  hands  up  and  down  my  chest.  I  have  a  secret 
pocket  there  which  should  be  empty  at  this  time." 

Mr.  Sedgwick,  fascinated  by  his  look,  did  as  he 
was  bid,  reporting  shortly: 

"  You  are  quite  correct.    I  find  nothing  there." 

Mr.  Blake  stepped  back.  As  he  did  so,  every  eye, 
suddenly  released  from  his  imposing  figure,  flashed 
towards  the  immovable  Clifford,  to  find  him  still 
absorbed  by  the  action  and  attitude  of  the  man  who 
had  just  undergone  what  to  him  doubtless  appeared 
a  degrading  ordeal.  Pale  before,  he  was  absolutely 
livid  now,  though  otherwise  unchanged.  To  break 
the  force  of  what  appeared  to  be  an  open,  if  involun- 
tary, self-betrayal,  another  guest  stepped  forward; 


THE  THIEF  347 

but  no  sooner  had  he  raised  his  hand  to  his  vest- 
pocket  than  Clifford  moved,  and  in  a  high,  strident 
voice  totally  unlike  his  usual  tones  remarked : 

"  This  is  all — all — very  interesting  and  commend- 
able, no  doubt.  But  for  such  a  procedure  to  be  of 
any  real  value  it  should  be  entered  into  by  all.  Gen- 
tlemen " — his  rigidity  was  all  gone  now  and  so  was 
his  pallor — "  I  am  unwilling  to  submit  myself  to 
what,  in  my  eyes,  is  an  act  of  unnecessary  humilia- 
tion. Our  word  should  be  enough.  I  have  not  the 

coin Stopped  by  the  absolute  silence,  he  cast 

a  distressed  look  into  the  faces  about  him,  till  it 
reached  that  of  Mr.  Sedgwick,  where  it  lingered,  in 
an  appeal  to  which  that  gentleman,  out  of  his  great 
heart,  instantly  responded. 

"  One  should  take  the  word  of  the  gentleman  he 
invites  to  his  house.  We  will  excuse  you,  and  ex- 
cuse all  the  others  from  the  unnecessary  ceremony 
which  Mr.  Blake  has  been  good  enough  to  initiate." 

But  this  show  of  favour  was  not  to  the  mind  of 
the  last-mentioned  gentleman,  and  met  with  instant 
reproof. 

"  Not  so  fast,  Sedgwick.  I  am  the  oldest  man 
here  and  I  did  not  feel  it  was  enough  simply  to 
state  that  this  coin  was  not  on  my  person.  As  to 
the  question  of  humiliation,  it  strikes  me  that  humilia- 
tion would  lie,  in  this  instance,  in  a  refusal  for 
which  no  better  excuse  can  be  given  than  the  purely 
egotistical  one  of  personal  pride." 

At  this  attack,  the  fine  head  of  Clifford  rose,  and 
Darrow,  remembering  the  girl  within,  felt  instinc- 


348  THE  THIEF 

tively  grateful  that  she  was  not  here  to  note  the  effect 
it  gave  to  his  person. 

"  I  regret  to  differ,"  said  he.  "  To  me  no  humilia- 
tion could  equal  that  of  demonstrating  in  this  open 
manner  the  fact  of  one's  not  being  a  thief." 

Mr.  Blake  gravely  surveyed  him.  For  some  rea- 
son the  issue  seemed  no  longer  to  lie  between  Clif- 
ford and  the  actual  loser  of  the  coin,  but  between 
him  and  his  fellow  guest,  this  uncompromising 
banker. 

"  A  thief !  "  repeated  the  young  man,  in  an  in- 
describable tone  full  of  bitterness  and  scorn. 

Mr.  Blake  remained  unmoved;  he  was  a  just  man 
but  strict,  hard  to  himself,  hard  to  others.  But  he 
was  not  entirely  without  heart.  Suddenly  his  expres- 
sion lightened.  A  certain  possible  explanation  of 
the  other's  attitude  had  entered  his  mind. 

"  Young  men  sometimes  have  reasons  for  their 
susceptibilities  which  the  old  forget.  If  you  have 
such — if  you  carry  a  photograph,  believe  that  we 
have  no  interest  in  pictures  of  any  sort  to-night  and 
certainly  would  fail  to  recognise  them." 

A  smile  of  disdain  flickered  across  the  young  man's 
lip.  Evidently  it  was  no  discovery  of  this  kind  that 
he  feared. 

"  I  carry  no  photographs,"  said  he;  and,  bowing 
low  to  his  host,  he  added  in  a  measured  tone  which 
but  poorly  hid  his  profound  agitation,  "  I  regret  to 
hare  interfered  in  the  slightest  way  with  the  pleasure 
of  the  evening.  If  you  will  be  so  good  as  to  make 
my  excuses  to  the  ladies,  I  will  withdraw  from  a 


THE  THIEF  349 

presence  upon  which  I  have  made  so  poor  an  im- 
pression." 

Mr.  Sedgwick  prized  his  coin  and  despised  deceit, 
but  he  could  not  let  a  guest  leave  him  in  this  manner. 
Instinctively  he  held  out  his  hand.  Proudly  young 
Clifford  dropped  his  own  into  it;  but  the  lack  of 
mutual  confidence  was  felt  and  the  contact  was  a  cold 
one.  Half  regretting  his  impulsive  attempt  at 
courtesy,  Mr.  Sedgwick  drew  back,  and  Clifford  was 
already  at  the  door  leading  into  the  hall,  when  Ham- 
mersley,  who  by  his  indiscreet  proposition  had  made 
all  this  trouble  for  him,  sprang  forward  and  caught 
him  by  the  arm. 

"  Don't  go,"  he  whispered.  "  You're  done  for  if 
you  leave  like  this.  I — I  was  a  brute  to  propose  such 
an  asinine  thing,  but  having  done  so  I  am  bound 
to  see  you  out  of  the  difficulty.  Come  into  the  ad- 
joining room — there  is  nobody  there  at  present — 
and  we  will  empty  our  pockets  together  and  find  this 
lost  article  if  we  can.  I  may  have  pocketed  it  myself, 
in  a  fit  of  abstraction." 

Did  the  other  hesitate?  Some  thought  so;  but,  if 
he  did,  it  was  but  momentarily. 

"  I  cannot,"  he  muttered;  "  think  what  you  will  of 
me,  but  let  me  go."  And  dashing  open  the  door  he 
disappeared  from  their  sight  just  as  light  steps  and 
the  rustle  of  skirts  were  heard  again  in  the  adjoining 
room. 

"  There  are  the  ladies.  What  shall  we  say  to 
them?"  queried  Sedgwick,  stepping  slowly  towards 
the  intervening  curtains. 


350  THE  THIEF 

"  Tell  them  the  truth,"  enjoined  Mr.  Blake,  as 
he  hastily  repocketed  his  own  belongings.  "  Why 
should  a  handsome  devil  like  that  be  treated  with  any 
more  consideration  than  another?  He  has' ar secret 
if  he  hasn't  a  coin.  Let  them  know  this.  It  may 
save  some  one  a  future  heartache." 

The  last  sentence  was  muttered,  but  Mr.  Sedg- 
wick  heard  it.  Perhaps  that  was  why  his  first  move- 
ment on  entering  the  adjoining  room  was  to  cross 
over  to  the  cabinet  and  shut  and  lock  the  heavily  pan- 
elled door  which  had  been  left  standing  open.  At  all 
events,  the  action  drew  general  attention  and  caused 
an  instant  silence,  broken  the  next  minute  by  an 
ardent  cry: 

"  So  your  search  was  futile?  " 

It  came  from  the  lady  least  known,  the  interest- 
ing young  stranger  whose  personality  had  made  so 
vivid  an  impression  upon  him. 

"  Quite  so,"  he  answered,  hastily  facing  her  with 
an  attempted  smile.  "  The  gentlemen  decided  not 
to  carry  matters  to  the  length  first  proposed.  The 
object  was  not  worth  it.  I  approved  their  decision. 
This  was  meant  for  a  joyous  occasion.  Why  mar  it 
by  unnecessary  unpleasantness?  " 

She  had  given  him  her  full  attention  while  he  was 
speaking,  but  her  eye  wandered  away  the  moment  he 
had  finished  and  rested  searchingly  on  the  other 
gentlemen.  Evidently  she  missed  a  face  she  had 
expected  to  find  there,  for  her  colour  changed  and 
she  drew  back  behind  the  other  ladies  with  the  light, 


THE  THIEF  351 

unmusical  laugh  women  sometimes  use  to  hide  a 
secret  emotion. 

It  brought  Mr.  Darrow  forward. 

"  Some  were  not  willing  to  subject  themselves  to 
what  they  considered  an  unnecessary  humiliation," 
he  curtly  remarked.  "  Mr.  Clifford " 

"  There!  let  us  drop  it,"  put  in  his  brother-in-law. 
"  I've  lost  my  coin  and  that's  the  end  of  it.  I  don't 
intend  to  have  the  evening  spoiled  for  a  thing  like 
that.  Music!  ladies,  music  and  a  jolly  air!  No 
more  dumps."  And  with  as  hearty  a  laugh  as  he 
could  command  in  face  of  the  sombre  looks  he  en- 
countered on  every  side,  he  led  the  way  back  into 
the  music-room. 

Once  there  the  women  seemed  to  recover  their 
spirits;  that  is,  such  as  remained.  One  had  dis- 
appeared. A  door  opened  from  this  room  into  the 
main  hall  and  through  this  a  certain  young  lady 
had  vanished  before  the  others  had  had  time  to 
group  themselves  about  the  piano.  We  know  who 
this  lady  was;  possibly,  we  know,  too,  why  her 
hostess  did  not  follow  her. 

Meanwhile,  Mr.  Clifford  had  gone  upstairs  for 
his  coat,  and  was  lingering  there,  the  prey  of  some 
very  bitter  reflections.  Though  he  had  encountered 
nobody  on  the  stairs,  and  neither  heard  nor  saw  any 
one  in  the  halls,  he  felt  confident  that  he  was  not 
unwatched.  He  remembered  the  look  on  the  butler's 
face  as  he  tore  himself  away  from  Hammersley's 
restraining  hand,  and  he  knew  what  that  fellow 
thought  and  also  was  quite  able  to  guess  what  that 


352  THE  THIEF 

fellow  would  do,  if  his  suspicions  were  farther 
awakened.  This  conviction  brought  an  odd  and  not 
very  open  smile  to  his  face,  as  he  finally  turned  to 
descend  the  one  flight  which  separated  him  from 
the  front  door  he  was  so  ardently  desirous  of  closing 
behind  him  for  ever. 

A  moment  and  he  would  be  down;  but  the  steps 
were  many  and  seemed  to  multiply  indefinitely  as  he 
sped  below.  Should  his  departure  be  noted,  and 
some  one  advance  to  detain  him!  He  fancied  he 
heard  a  rustle  in  the  open  space  under  the  stairs. 

Were  any  one  to  step  forth,  Robert  or With 

a  start,  he  paused  and  clutched  the  banister.  Some 
one  had  stepped  forth;  a  woman!  The  swish  of 
her  skirts  was  unmistakable.  He  felt  the  chill  of 
a  new  dread.  Never  in  his  short  but  triumphant 
career  had  he  met  coldness  or  disapproval  in  the 
eye  of  a  woman.  Was  he  to  encounter  it  now?  If 
so,  it  would  go  hard  with  him.  He  trembled  as  he 
turned  his  head  to  see  which  of  the  four  it  was. 

If  it  should  prove  to  be  his  hostess But  it  was 

not  she;  it  was  Darrow's  young  friend,  the  pretty 
inconsequent  girl  he  had  chatted  with  at  the  dinner- 
table,  and  afterwards  completely  forgotten  in  the 
events  which  had  centred  all  his  thoughts  upon  him- 
self. And  she  was  standing  there,  waiting  for 
him!  He  would  have  to  pass  her, — notice  her, — 
speak. 

But  when  the  encounter  occurred  and  their  eyes 
met,  he  failed  to  find  in  hers  any  sign  of  the  dis- 
approval he  feared,  but  instead  a  gentle  womanly 


THE  THIEF  353 

interest  which  he  might  interpret  deeply,  or  other- 
wise, according  to  the  measure  of  his  need. 

That  need  seemed  to  be  a  deep  one  at  this  instant, 
for  his  countenance  softened  perceptibly  as  he  took 
her  quietly  extended  hand. 

"Good-night,"  she  said;  "I  am  just  going  my- 
self," and  with  an  entrancing  smile  of  perfect  friend- 
liness, she  fluttered  past  him  up  the  stairs. 

It  was  the  one  and  only  greeting  which  his  sick 
heart  could  have  sustained  without  flinching.  Just 
this  friendly  farewell  of  one  acquaintance  to  an- 
other, as  though  no  change  had  taken  place  in  his 
relations  to  society  and  the  world.  And  she  was 
a  woman  and  not  a  thoughtless  girl !  Staring  after 
her  slight,  elegant  figure,  slowly  ascending  the  stair, 
he  forgot  to  return  her  cordial  greeting.  What 
delicacy,  and  yet  what  character  there  was  in  the 
poise  of  her  spirited  head!  He  felt  his  breath  fail 
him,  in  his  anxiety  for  another  glance  from  her  eye, 
for  some  sign,  however  small,  that  she  had  carried 
the  thought  of  him  up  those  few,  quickly-mounted 
steps.  Would  he  get  it?  She  is  at  the  bend  of  the 
stair;  she  pauses — turns,  a  nod, — and  she  is  gone. 

With  an  impetuous  gesture,  he  dashed  from  the 
house. 

In  the  drawing-room  the  noise  of  the  closing  door 
was  heard,  and  a  change  at  once  took  place  in  the 
attitude  and  expression  of  all  present.  The  young 
millionaire  approached  Mr.  Sedgwick  and  confi- 
dentially remarked : 

"  There  goes  your  precious  coin.    I'm  sure  of  it. 


354  THE  THIEF 

I  even  think  I  can  tell  the  exact  place  in  which  it  is 
hidden.  His  hand  went  to  his  left  coat-pocket  once 
too  often." 

"  That's  right.  I  noticed  the  action  also,"  chimed 
in  Mr.  Darrow,  who  had  stepped  up,  unobserved. 
"  And  I  noticed  something  else.  His  whole  appear- 
ance altered  from  the  moment  this  coin  came  on  the 
scene.  An  indefinable  half-eager,  half-furtive  look 
crept  into  his  eye  as  he  saw  it  passed  from  hand  to 
hand.  I  remember  it  now,  though  it  didn't  make 
much  impression  upon  me  at  the  time." 

"  And  I  remember  another  thing,"  supplemented 
Hammersley  in  his  anxiety  to  set  himself  straight 
with  these  men  of  whose  entire  approval  he  was  not 
quite  sure.  a  He  raised  his  napkin  to  his  mouth 
very  frequently  during  the  meal  and  held  it  there 
longer  than  is  usual,  too.  Once  he  caught  me  look- 
ing at  him,  and  for  a  moment  he  flushed  scarlet, 
then  he  broke  out  with  one  of  his  witty  remarks 
and  I  had  to  laugh  like  everybody  else.  If  I  am 
not  mistaken,  his  napkin  was  up  and  his  right  hand 
working  behind  it,  about  the  time  Mr.  Sedgwick 
requested  the  return  of  his  coin." 

"  The  idiot !  Hadn't  he  sense  enough  to  know  that 
such  a  loss  wouldn't  pass  unquestioned?  The  gem 
of  the  collection;  known  all  over  the  country,  and 
he's  not  even  a  connoisseur." 

"  No;  I've  never  even  heard  him  mention  numis- 
matics." 

"  Mr.  Darrow  spoke  of  its  value.    Perhaps  that 


THE  THIEF  355 

was  what  tempted  him.  I  know  that  Clifford's  been 
rather  down  on  his  luck  lately." 

"He?  Well,  he  don't  look  it.  There  isn't  one  of 
us  so  well  set  up.  Pardon  me,  Mr.  Hammersley, 
you  understand  what  I  mean.  He  perhaps  relies  a 
little  bit  too  much  on  his  fine  clothes." 

"  He  needn't.  His  face  is  his  fortune — all  the  one 
he's  got,  I  hear  it  said.  He  had  a  pretty  income 
from  Consolidated  Silver,  but  that's  gone  up  and  left 
him  in  what  you  call  difficulties.  If  he  has  debts 
besides " 

But  here  Mr.  Darrow  was  called  off.  His  niece 
wanted  to  see  him  for  one  minute  in  the  hall.  When 
he  came  back  it  was  to  make  his  adieu  and  hers. 
She  had  been  taken  suddenly  indisposed  and  his 
duty  was  to  see  her  immediately  home.  This  broke 
up  the  party,  and  amid  general  protestations  the 
various  guests  were  taking  their  leave  when  the 
whole  action  was  stopped  by  a  smothered  cry  from 
the  dining-room,  and  the  precipitate  entrance  of 
Robert,  asking  for  Mr.  Sedgwick. 

"What's  up?  What's  happened?"  demanded 
that  gentleman,  hurriedly  advancing  towards  the  agi- 
tated butler. 

"  Found !  "  he  exclaimed,  holding  up  the  coin  be- 
tween his  thumb  and  forefinger.  "  It  was  standing 
straight  up  between  two  leaves  of  the  table.  It 
tumbled  and  fell  to  the  floor  as  Luke  and  I  were 
taking  them  out." 

Silence  which  could  be  felt  for  a  moment.  Then 
each  man  turned  and  surveyed  his  neighbour,  while 


356  THE  THIEF 

the  women's  voices  rose  in  little  cries  that  were 
almost  hysterical. 

"  I  knew  that  it  would  be  found,  and  found  here," 
came  from  the  hallway  in  rich,  resonant  tones. 
"  Uncle,  do  not  hurry;  I  am  feeling  better,"  followed 
in  unconscious  naivete,  as  the  young  girl  stepped  in, 
showing  a  countenance  in  which  were  small  signs  of 
indisposition  or  even  of  depressed  spirits. 

Mr.  Darrow,  with  a  smile  of  sympathetic  under- 
standing, joined  the  others  now  crowding  about  the 
butler. 

"  I  noticed  the  crack  between  these  two  leaves 
when  I  pushed  about  the  plates  and  dishes,"  he  was 
saying.  "  But  I  never  thought  of  looking  in  it  for 
the  missing  coin.  I'm  sure  I'm  very  sorry  that  I 
didn't." 

Mr.  Darrow,  to  whom  these  words  had  recalled  a 
circumstance  he  had  otherwise  completely  forgotten, 
anxiously  remarked:  "That  must  have  happened 
shortly  after  it  left  my  hand.  I  recall  now  that  the 
lady  sitting  between  me  and  Clifford  gave  it  a  twirl 
which  sent  it  spinning  over  the  bare  table-top.  I 
don't  think  she  realised  the  action.  She  was  listen- 
ing— we  all  were — to  a  flow  of  bright  repartee  going 
on  below  us,  and  failed  to  follow  the  movements  of 
the  coin.  Otherwise,  she  would  have  spoken.  But 
what  a  marvel  that  it  should  have  reached  that  crack 
in  just  the  position  to  fall  in!  " 

"  It  wouldn't  happen  again,  not  if  we  spun  it 
there  for  a  month  of  Sundays." 

"  But  Mr.  Clifford!  "  put  in  an  agitated  voice. 


THE  THIEF  357 

"  Yes,  it  has  been  rather  hard  on  him.  But  he 
shouldn't  have  such  keen  sensibilities.  If  he  had 
emptied  out  his  pockets  cheerfully  and  at  the  first 
intimation,  none  of  this  unpleasantness  would  have 
happened.  Mr.  Sedgwick,  I  congratulate  you  upon 
the  recovery  of  this  valuable  coin,  and  am  quite 
ready  to  offer  my  services  if  you  wish  to  make  Mr. 
Clifford  immediately  acquainted  with  Robert's  dis- 
covery." 

"  Thank  you,  but  I  will  perform  that  duty  myself," 
was  Mr.  Sedgwick's  quiet  rejoinder,  as  he  unlocked 
the  door  of  his  cabinet  and  carefully  restored  the 
coin  to  its  proper  place. 

When  he  faced  back,  he  found  his  guests  on  the 
point  of  leaving.  Only  one  gave  signs  of  any  in- 
tention of  lingering.  This  was  the  elderly  financier 
who  had  shown  such  stern  resolve  in  his  treatment  of 
Mr.  Clifford's  so-called  sensibilities.  He  had  con- 
fided his  wife  to  the  care  of  Mr.  Darrow,  and  now 
met  Mr.  Sedgwick  with  this  remark: 

"  I'm  going  to  ask  a  favour  of  you.  If,  as  you 
have  intimated,  it  is  your  intention  to  visit  Mr.  Clif- 
ford to-night,  I  should  like  to  go  with  you.  I  don't 
understand  this  young  man  and  his  unaccountable 
attitude  in  this  matter,  and  it  is  very  important  that 
I  should.  Have  you  any  objection  to  my  company? 
My  motor  is  at  the  door,  and  we  can  settle  the  affair 
in  twenty  minutes." 

"  None,"  returned  his  host,  a  little  surprised,  how- 
ever, at  the  request.  "  His  pride  does  seem  a  little 
out  of  place,  but  he  was  among  comparative  stran- 


358  THE  THIEF 

gers,  and  seemed  to  feel  his  honour  greatly  impugned 
by  Hammersley's  unfortunate  proposition.  I'm 
sorry  way  down  to  the  ground  for  what  has  oc- 
curred, and  cannot  carry  him  our  apologies  too 
soon." 

"  No,  you  cannot,"  retorted  the  other  shortly. 
And  so  seriously  did  he  utter  this  that  no  time  was 
lost  by  Mr.  Sedgwick,  and  as  soon  as  they  could  get 
into  their  coats,  they  were  in  the  motor  and  on  their 
way  to  the  young  man's  apartment. 

Their  experience  began  at  the  door.  A  man  was 
lolling  there  who  told  them  that  Mr.  Clifford  had 
changed  his  quarters;  where  he  did  not  know.  But 
upon  the  production  of  a  five-dollar  bill,  he  remem- 
bered enough  about  it  to  give  them  a  number  and 
street  where  possibly  they  might  find  him.  In  ^ 
rush,  they  hastened  there;  only  to  hear  the  same 
story  from  the  sleepy  elevator  boy  anticipating  his 
last  trip  up  for  the  night. 

"  Mr.  Clifford  left  a  week  ago;  he  didn't  tell  me 
where  he  was  going." 

Nevertheless  the  boy  knew;  that  they  saw,  and 
another  but  smaller  bill  came  into  requisition  and 
awoke  his  sleepy  memory. 

The  street  and  number  which  he  gave  made  the 
two  well-to-do  men  stare.  But  they  said  nothing, 
though  the  looks  they  cast  back  at  the  second-rate 
quarters  they  were  leaving,  so  far  below  the  elegant 
apartment  house  they  had  visited  first,  were  suf- 
ficiently expressive.  The  scale  of  descent  from  lux- 
ury to  positive  discomfort  was  proving  a  rapid  one 


THE  THIEF  359 

and  prepared  them  for  the  dismal,  ill-cared-for,  al- 
together repulsive  doorway  before  which  they  halted 
next.  No  attendant  waited  here;  not  even  an  ele- 
vator boy;  the  latter  for  the  good  reason  that  there 
was  no  elevator.  An  uninviting  flight  of  stairs  was 
before  them;  and  on  the  few  doors  within  sight  a 
simple  card  showed  the  name  of  the  occupant. 

Mr.  Sedgwick  glanced  at  his  companion. 

"  Shall  we  go  up?  "  he  asked. 

Mr.  Blake  nodded.  "  We'll  find  him,"  said  he, 
"  if  it  takes  all  night." 

"  Surely  he  cannot  have  sunk  lower  than  this." 

"  Remembering  his  get-up  I  do  not  think  so.  Yet 
who  knows?  Some  mystery  lies  back  of  his  whole 
conduct.  Dining  in  your  home,  with  this  to  come 
back  to !  I  don't  wonder " 

But  here  a  thought  struck  him.  Pausing  with  his 
foot  on  the  stair,  he  turned  a  flushed  countenance 
towards  Mr.  Sedgwick.  "  I've  an  idea,"  said  he. 
"  Perhaps "  He  whispered  the  rest. 

Mr.  Sedgwick  stared  and  shook  his  shoulders. 
"  Possibly,"  said  he,  flushing  slightly  in  his  turn. 
Then,  as  they  proceeded  up,  "  I  feel  like  a  brute, 
anyway.  A  sorry  night's  business  all  through,  unless 
the  end  proves  better  than  the  beginning." 

"  We'll  start  from  the  top.  Something  tells  me 
that  we  shall  find  him  close  under  the  roof.  Can  you 
read  the  names  by  such  a  light?  " 

"  Barely;  but  I  have  matches." 

And  now  there  might  have  been  witnessed  by  any 
chance  home- comer  the  curious  sight  of  two  ex- 


360  THE  THIEF 

tremely  well-dressed  men  pottering  through  the  attic 
hall  of  this  decaying  old  domicile,  reading  the  cards 
on  the  doors  by  means  of  a  lighted  match. 

And  vainly.  On  none  of  the  cards  could  be  seen 
the  name  they  sought. 

"  We're  on  the  wrong  track,"  protested  Mr. 
Blake.  "  No  use  keeping  this  up,"  but  found  him- 
self stopped,  when  about  to  turn  away,  by  a  gesture 
of  Sedgwick's. 

"  There's  a  light  under  the  door  you  see  there 
untagged,"  said  he.  "  I'm  going  to  knock." 

He  did  so.  There  was  a  sound  within  and  then 
utter  silence. 

He  knocked  again.  A  man's  step  was  heard 
approaching  the  door,  then  again  the  silence. 

Mr.  Sedgwick  made  a  third  essay,  and  then  the 
door  was  suddenly  pulled  inward  and  in  the  gap 
they  saw  the  handsome  face  and  graceful  figure  of 
the  young  man  they  had  so  lately  encountered  amid 
palatial  surroundings.  But  how  changed!  how 
openly  miserable  I  and  when  he  saw  who  his  guests 
were,  how  proudly  defiant  of  their  opinion  and 
presence. 

"  You  have  found  the  coin,"  he  quietly  remarked. 
"  I  appreciate  your  courtesy  in  coming  here  to  in- 
form me  of  it.  Will  not  that  answer,  without  fur- 
ther conversation?  I  am  on  the  point  of  retiring 
and — and " 

Even  the  hardihood  of  a  very  visible  despair  gave 
way  for  an  instant  as  he  met  Mr.  Sedgwick's  eye. 
In  the  break  which  followed,  the  older  man  spoke. 


THE  THIEF  361 

11  Pardon  us,  but  we  have  come  thus  far  with  a 
double  purpose.  First,  to  tender  our  apologies, 
which  you  have  been  good  enough  to  accept;  sec- 
ondly, to  ask,  in  no  spirit  of  curiosity,  I  assure  you, 
a  question  that  I  seem  to  see  answered,  but  which  I 
should  be  glad  to  hear  confirmed  by  your  lips.  May 
we  not  come  in?  " 

The  question  was  put  with  a  rare  smile  such  as 
sometimes  was  seen  on  this  hard-grained  handler  of 
millions,  and  the  young  man,  seeing  it,  faltered 
back,  leaving  the  way  open  for  them  to  enter.  The 
next  minute  he  seemed  to  regret  the  impulse,  for 
backing  against  a  miserable  table  they  saw  there,  he 
drew  himself  up  with  an  air  as  nearly  hostile  as  one 
of  his  nature  could  assume. 

"  I  know  of  no  question,"  said  he,  "  which  I  feel 
at  this  very  late  hour  inclined  to  answer.  A  man  who 
has  been  tracked  as  I  must  have  been  for  you  to 
find  me  here,  is  hardly  in  a  mood  to  explain  his 
poverty  or  the  mad  desire  for  former  luxuries  which 
took  him  to  the  house  of  one  friendly  enough,  he 
thought,  to  accept  his  presence  without  inquiry  as 
to  the  place  he  lived  in  or  the  nature  or  number  of 
the  reverses  which  had  brought  him  to  such  a  place  as 
this." 

"  I  do  not — believe  me "  faltered  Mr.  Sedg- 

wick,  greatly  embarrassed  and  distressed.  In  spite 
of  the  young  man's  attempt  to  hide  the  contents 
of  the  table,  he  had  seen  the  two  objects  lying 
there — a  piece  of  bread  or  roll,  and  a  half-cocked 
revolver. 


362  THE  THIEF 

Mr.  Blake  had  seen  them,  too,  and  at  once  took 
the  word  out  of  his  companion's  mouth. 

"  You  mistake  us,"  he  said  coldly,  "  as  well  as 
the  nature  of  our  errand.  We  are  here  from  no  mo- 
tive of  curiosity,  as  I  have  before  said,  nor  from 
any  other  which  might  offend  or  distress  you.  We — 
or  rather  I  am  here  on  business.  I  have  a  position 
to  offer  to  an  intelligent,  upright,  enterprising  young 
man.  Your  name  has  been  given  me.  It  was  given 
me  before  this  dinner,  to  which  I  went — if  Mr. 
Sedgwick  will  pardon  my  plain  speaking — chiefly 
for  the  purpose  of  making  your  acquaintance.  The 
result  was  what  you  know,  and  possibly  now  you  can 
understand  my  anxiety  to  see  you  exonerate  yourself 
from  the  doubts  you  yourself  raised  by  your  attitude 
of  resistance  to  the  proposition  made  by  that  head- 
long, but  well-meaning,  young  man  of  many  millions, 
Mr.  Hammersley.  I  wanted  to  find  in  you  the  hon- 
ourable characteristics  necessary  to  the  man  who  is 
to  draw  an  eight  thousand  dollars  a  year  salary 
under  my  eye.  I  still  want  to  do  this.  If  then  you 
are  willing  to  make  this  whole  thing  plain  to  me — 
for  it  is  not  plain — not  wholly  plain,  Mr.  Clifford — 
then  you  will  find  in  me  a  friend  such  as  few  young 
fellows  can  boast  of,  for  I  like  you — I  will  say  that — 
and  where  I  like " 

The  gesture  with  which  he  ended  the  sentence  was 
almost  superfluous,  in  face  of  the  change  which 
had  taken  place  in  the  aspect  of  the  man  he  ad- 
dressed. Wonder,  doubt,  hope,  and  again  incredulity 


THE  THIEF  363 

were  lost  at  last  in  a  recognition  of  the  other's 
kindly  intentions  toward  himself,  and  the  prospects 
which  they  opened  out  before  him.  With  a  shame- 
faced look,  and  yet  with  a  manly  acceptance  of  his 
own  humiliation  that  was  not  displeasing  to  his  visi- 
tors, he  turned  about  and  pointing  to  the  morsel  of 
bread  lying  on  the  table  before  them,  he  said  to  Mr. 
Sedgwick: 

"  Do  you  recognise  that?  It  is  from  your  table, 
and — and — it  is  not  the  only  piece  I  had  hidden  in 
my  pockets.  I  had  not  eaten  in  twenty-four  hours 
when  I  sat  down  to  dinner  this  evening.  I  had  no 
prospect  of  another  morsel  for  to-morrow  and — 
and — I  was  afraid  of  eating  my  fill — there  were 
ladies — and  so — and  so " 

They  did  not  let  him  finish.  In  a  flash  they  had 
both  taken  in  the  room.  Not  an  article  which  could 
be  spared  was  anywhere  visible.  His  dress-suit  was 
all  that  remained  to  him  of  former  ease  and  luxury. 
That  he  had  retained,  possibly  for  just  such  oppor- 
tunities as  had  given  him  a  dinner  to-night.  Mr. 
Blake  understood  at  last,  and  his  iron  lip  trem- 
bled. 

"Have  you  no  friends?"  he  asked.  "Was  it 
necessary  to  go  hungry?  " 

"  Could  I  ask  alms  or  borrow  what  I  could  not 
pay?  -It  was  a  position  I  was  after,  and  positions 
do  not  come  at  call.  Sometimes  they  come  without 
it,"  he  smiled  with  the  dawning  of  his  old-time  grace 
on  his  handsome  face,  "  but  I  find  that  one  can  see 
his  resources  go,  dollar  by  dollar,  and  finally,  cent 


364  THE  THIEF 

by  cent,  in  the  search  for  employment  no  one  con- 
siders necessary  to  a  man  like  me.  Perhaps  if  I  had 
had  less  pride,  had  been  willing  to  take  you  or  any 
one  else  into  my  confidence,  I  might  not  have  sunk  to 
these  depths  of  humiliation;  but  I  had  not  the  con- 
fidence in  men  which  this  last  half  hour  has  given  me, 
and  I  went  blundering  on,  hiding  my  needs  and  hop- 
ing against  hope  for  some  sort  of  result  to  my  efforts. 
This  pistol  is  not  mine.  I  did  borrow  this,  but  I 
did  not  mean  to  use  it,  unless  nature  reached  the 
point  where  it  could  stand  no  more.  I  thought  the 
time  had  come  to-night  when  I  left  your  house,  Mr. 
Sedgwick,  suspected  of  theft.  It  seemed  the  last 
straw;  but — but — a  woman's  look  has  held  me  back. 
I  hesitated  and — now  you  know  the  whole,"  s?.id  he; 
"  that  is,  if  you  can  understand  why  it  was  more 
possible  for  me  to  brave  the  contumely  of  such  a 
suspicion  than  to  open  my  pockets  and  disclose  the 
crusts  I  had  hidden  there." 

"  I  can  understand,"  said  Mr.  Sedgwick;  "  but  the 
opportunity  you  have  given  us  for  doing  so  must 
not  be  shared  by  others.  We  will  undertake  your 
justification,  but  it  must  be  made  in  our  own  way 
and  after  the  most  careful  consideration;  eh,  Mr. 
Blake?" 

"  Most  assuredly;  and  if  Mr.  Clifford  will  present 
himself  at  my  office  early  in  the  morning,  we  will 
first  breakfast  and  then  talk  business." 

Young  Clifford  could  only  hold  out  his  hand,  but 
when,  his  two  friends  gone,  he  sat  in  contemplation 
of  his  changed  prospects,  one  word  and  one  only 


THE  THIEF  365 

left  his  lips,  uttered  in  every  inflection  of  tenderness, 
hope,  and  joy.    "  Edith !  Edith  I  Edith !  " 

It  was  the  name  of  the  sweet  young  girl  who  had 
shown  her  faith  in  him  at  the  moment  when  his  heart 
was  lowest  and  despair  at  its  culmination. 


THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST 


(Copyright,  1905,  by  The  Bobbs-Merrill  Company 
Used  by  special  permission  of  the  publishers) 


AN   OPEN   DOOR 

IT  was  a  night  to  drive  any  man  indoors.  Not  only 
was  the  darkness  impenetrable,  but  the  raw  mist 
enveloping  hill  and  valley  made  the  open  road 
anything  but  desirable  to  a  belated  wayfarer  like 
myself. 

Being  young,  untrammelled,  and  naturally  in- 
different to  danger,  I  was  not  averse  to  adventure; 
and  having  my  fortune  to  make,  was  always  on  the 
lookout  for  El  Dorado,  which  to  ardent  souls  lies 
ever  beyond  the  next  turning.  Consequently,  when 
I  saw  a  light  shimmering  through  the  mist  at  my 
right,  I  resolved  to  make  for  it  and  the  shelter  it  so 
opportunely  offered. 

But  I  did  not  realise  then,  as  I  do  now,  that 
shelter  does  not  necessarily  imply  refuge,  or  I  might 
not  have  undertaken  this  adventure  with  so  light  a 
heart.  Yet  who  knows?  The  impulses  of  an 
unfettered  spirit  lean  toward  daring,  and  youth,  as 
I  have  said,  seeks  the  strange,  the  unknown,  and 
sometimes  the  terrible. 

My  path  towards  this  light  was  by  no  means  an 

easy    one.       After    confused    wanderings    through 

tangled  hedges,   and  a   struggle  with  obstacles  of 

whose  nature  I  received  the  most  curious  impression 

369 


370  THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST 

in  the  surrounding  murk,  I  arrived  in  front  of  a 
long,  low  building,  which,  to  my  astonishment,  I 
found  standing  with  doors  and  windows  open  to  the 
pervading  mist,  save  for  one  square  casement, 
through  which  the  light  shone  from  a  row  of  candles 
placed  on  a  long  mahogany  table. 

The  quiet  and  seeming  emptiness  of  this  odd  and 
picturesque  building  made  me  pause.  I  am  not 
much  affected  by  visible  danger,  but  this  silent 
room,  with  its  air  of  sinister  expectancy,  struck  me 
most  unpleasantly,  and  I  was  about  to  reconsider  my 
first  impulse  and  withdraw  again  to  the  road,  when 
a  second  look  thrown  back  upon  the  comfortable 
interior  I  was  leaving  convinced  me  of  my  folly,  and 
sent  me  straight  toward  the  door  which  stood  so 
invitingly  open. 

But  half-way  up  the  path  my  progress  was  again 
stayed  by  the  sight  of  a  man  issuing  from  the  house 
I  had  so  rashly  looked  upon  as  devoid  of  all  human 
presence.  He  seemed  in  haste,  and  at  the  moment 
my  eye  first  fell  on  him  was  engaged  in  replacing  his 
watch  in  his  pocket. 

But  he  did  not  shut  the  door  behind  him,  which 
I  thought  odd,  especially  as  his  final  glance  had 
been  a  backward  one,  and  seemed  to  take  in  all 
the  appointments  of  the  place  he  was  so  hurriedly 
leaving. 

As  we  met  he  raised  his  hat.  This  likewise  struck 
me  as  peculiar,  for  the  deference  he  displayed  was 
more  marked  than  that  usually  bestowed  on  stran- 
gers, while  his  lack  of  surprise  at  an  encounter  more 


THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST  371 

or  less  startling  in  such  a  mist,  was  calculated  to 
puzzle  an  ordinary  man  like  myself.  Indeed,  he  was 
so  little  impressed  by  my  presence  there  that  he  was 
for  passing  me  without  a  word  or  any  other  hint  of 
good-fellowship  save  the  bow  of  which  I  have  spoken. 
But  this  did  not  suit  me.  I  was  hungry,  cold,  and 
eager  for  creature  comforts,  and  the  house  before 
me  gave  forth,  not  only  heat,  but  a  savoury  odour 
which  in  itself  was  an  invitation  hard  to  ignore.  I 
therefore  accosted  the  man. 

"  Will  bed  and  supper  be  provided  for  me  here?  " 
I  asked.  "  I  am  tired  out  with  a  long  tramp  over 
the  hills,  and  hungry  enough  to  pay  anything  in 
reason " 

I  stopped,  for  the  man  had  disappeared.    He  had 
not  paused  at  my  appeal,  and  the  mist  had  swallowed 
him.     But  at  the  break  in  my  sentence  his  voice 
came  back  in  good-natured  tones,  and  I  heard: 

"  Supper  will  be  ready  at  nine,  and  there  are  beds 
for  all.  Enter,  sir;  you  are  the  first  to  arrive,  but 
the  others  cannot  be  far  behind." 

A  queer  greeting  certainly.  But  when  I  strove 
to  question  him  as  to  its  meaning,  his  voice  returned 
to  me  from  such  a  distance  that  I  doubted  if  my 
words  had  reached  him  any  more  than  his  answer 
had  reached  me. 

II  Well,"  thought  I,  "  it  isn't  as  if  a  lodging  had 
been  denied  me.    He  invited  me  to  enter,  and  enter 
I  will." 

The  house,  to  which  I  now  naturally  directed  a 
glance  of  much  more  careful  scrutiny  than  before, 


372  THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST 

was  no  ordinary  farm-building,  but  a  rambling  old 
mansion,  made  conspicuously  larger  here  and  there 
by  jutting  porches  and  more  than  one  convenient 
lean-to.  Though  furnished,  warmed,  and  lighted 
with  candles,  as  I  have  previously  described,  it  had 
about  it  an  air  of  disuse  which  made  me  feel  myself 
an  intruder,  in  spite  of  the  welcome  I  had  received. 
But  I  was  not  in  a  position  to  stand  upon  ceremony, 
and  ere  long  I  found  myself  inside  the  great  room 
and  before  the  blazing  logs  whose  glow  had  'ighted 
up  the  doorway  and  added  its  own  attraction  to  the 
other  allurements  of  the  inviting  place. 

Though  the  open  door  made  a  draught  which  was 
anything  but  pleasant,  I  did  not  feel  like  closing  it, 
and  was  astonished  to  observe  the  effect  of  the  mist 
through  the  square  thus  left  open  to  the  night.  It 
was  not  an  agreeable  one,  and,  instinctively  turning 
my  back  upon  that  quarter  of  the  room,  I  let  my 
eyes  roam  over  the  wainscoted  walls  and  the  odd 
pieces  of  furniture  which  gave  such  an  air  of  old- 
fashioned  richness  to  the  place.  As  nothing  of 
the  kind  had  ever  fallen  under  my  eyes  before,  I 
would  have  thoroughly  enjoyed  this  opportunity  of 
gratifying  my  taste  for  the  curious  and  the  beautiful, 
if  the  quaint  old  chairs  I  saw  standing  about  me  on 
every  side  had  not  all  been  empty.  But  the  solitude 
of  the  place,  so  much  more  oppressive  than  the 
solitude  of  the  road  I  had  left,  struck  cold  to  my 
heart,  and  I  missed  the  cheer  rightfully  belonging  to 
such  attractive  surroundings.  Suddenly  I  bethought 
me  of  the  many  other  apartments  likely  to  be  found 


THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST  373 

in  so  spacious  a  dwelling,  and,  going  to  the  nearest 
door,  I  opened  it  and  called  out  for  the  master  of 
the  house.  But  only  an  echo  came  back,  and  re- 
turning to  the  fire,  I  sat  down  before  the  cheering 
blaze,  in  quiet  acceptance  of  a  situation  too  lonely 
for  comfort,  yet  not  without  a  certain  piquant  interest 
for  a  man  of  free  mind  and  adventurous  disposition 
like  myself. 

After  all,  if  supper  was  to  be  served  at  nine,  some 
one  must  be  expected  to  eat  it;  I  should  surely  not 
be  left  much  longer  without  companions. 

Meanwhile  ample  amusement  awaited  me  in  the 
contemplation  of  a  picture  which,  next  to  the  large 
fireplace,  was  the  most  prominent  object  in  the  room. 
This  picture  was  a  portrait,  and  a  remarkable  one. 
The  countenance  it  portrayed  was  both  characteristic 
and  forcible,  and  so  interested  me  that  in  studying 
it  I  quite  forgot  both  hunger  and  weariness.  Indeed 
its  effect  upon  me  was  such  that,  after  gazing  at  it 
uninterruptedly  for  a  few  minutes,  I  discovered  that 
its  various  features — the  narrow  eyes  in  which  a 
hint  of  craft  gave  a  strange  gleam  to  their  native 
intelligence;  the  steadfast  chin,  strong  as  the  rock  of 
the  hills  I  had  wearily  tramped  all  day;  the  cunning 
wrinkles  which  yet  did  not  interfere  with  a  latent 
great-heartedness  that  made  the  face  as  attractive  as 
it  was  puzzling — had  so  established  themselves  in 
my  mind  that  I  continued  to  see  them  before  me 
whichever  way  I  turned,  and  even  found  it  impossible 
to  shake  off  their  influence  after  I  had  resolutely  set 
my  mind  in  another  direction  by  endeavouring  to 


374  THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST 

recall  what  I  knew  of  the  town  into  which  I  had 
strayed. 

I  had  come  from  Scranton,  and  was  now,  accord- 
ing to  my  best  judgment,  in  one  of  those  rural 
districts  of  Western  Pennsylvania  which  breed  such 
strange  and  sturdy  characters.  But  of  this  special 
neighbourhood,  its  inhabitants,  and  its  industries, 
I  knew  nothing,  nor  was  I  likely  to  become  ac- 
quainted with  it  so  long  as  I  remained  in  the  solitude 
I  have  described. 

But  these  impressions  and  these  thoughts — if 
thoughts  they  were — presently  received  a  check.  A 
loud  "  Halloo !  "  rose  from  somewhere  in  the  mist, 
followed  by  a  string  of  muttered  imprecations,  which 
convinced  me  that  the  person  now  attempting  to 
approach  the  house  was  encountering  some  of  the 
many  difficulties  which  had  beset  me  in  the  same 
undertaking  a  few  minutes  before. 

I  therefore  raised  my  voice  and  shouted  out, 
"Here!  This  way!"  after  which  I  sat  still  and 
awaited  developments. 

There  was  a  huge  clock  in  one  of  the  corners, 
whose  loud  tick  filled  up  every  interval  of  silence. 
By  this  clock  it  was  just  ten  minutes  to  eight  when 
two  gentlemen — I  should  say  men,  and  coarse  men 
at  that — crossed  the  open  threshold  and  entered  the 
house. 

Their  appearance  was  more  or  less  noteworthy — 
unpleasantly  so,  I  am  obliged  to  add.  One  was  red- 
faced  and  obese;  the  other  was  tall,  thin,  and  wiry, 
and  showed  as  many  seams  in  his  face  as  a  blighted 


THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST  375 

apple.  Neither  of  the  two  had  anything  to  recom- 
mend him  either  in  appearance  or  address,  save  a 
certain  veneer  of  polite  assumption  as  transparent  as 
it  was  offensive.  As  I  listened  to  the  forced  sallies 
of  the  one  and  the  hollow  laugh  of  the  other,  I  was 
glad  that  I  was  large  of  frame  and  strong  of  arm, 
and  used  to  all  kinds  of  men  and — brutes. 

As  these  two  newcomers  seemed  no  more 
astonished  at  my  presence  than  the  man  I  had  met 
at  the  gate,  I  checked  the  question  which  instinc- 
tively rose  to  my  lips,  and  with  a  simple  bow — 
responded  to  by  a  more  or  less  familiar  nod  from 
either — accepted  the  situation  with  all  the  sang-froid 
the  occasion  seemed  to  demand.  Perhaps  this  was 
wise,  perhaps  it  was  not;  there  was  little  opportunity 
to  judge,  for  the  start  they  both  gave  as  they  encoun- 
tered the  eyes  of  the  picture  before  mentioned  drew 
my  attention  to  a  consideration  of  the  different  ways 
in  which  men,  however  similar  in  other  respects, 
express  sudden  and  unlooked-for  emotion.  The  big 
man  simply  allowed  his  astonishment,  dread,  or 
whatever  the  feeling  was  which  moved  him,  to  ooze 
forth  in  a  cold  and  deathly  perspiration  which 
robbed  his  cheeks  of  colour,  and  cast  a  bluish  shadow 
over  his  narrow  and  retreating  temples;  while  the 
thin  and  waspish  man,  caught  in  the  same  trap  (for 
trap  I  saw  it  was),  shouted  aloud  in  his  ill-timed 
mirth,  the  false  and  cruel  character  of  which  would 
have  made  me  shudder,  if  all  expression  of  feeling 
on  my  part  had  not  been  held  in  check  by  the  interest 
I  immediately  experienced  in  the  display  of  open 


376  THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST 

bravado  with  which,  in  another  moment,  these  two 
tried  to  carry  off  their  mutual  embarrassment. 

"Good  likeness,  eh?"  laughed  the  seamy-faced 
man.  "  Quite  an  idea  that!  Makes  him  one  of  us 
again!  Well,  he's  welcome — in  oils.  Can't  say 
much  to  us  from  canvas,  eh?"  And  the  rafters 
above  him  vibrated,  as  his  violent  efforts  at  joviality 
went  up  in  loud  and  louder  assertion  from  his  thin 
throat. 

A  nudge  from  the  other's  elbow  stopped  him,  and 
I  saw  them  both  cast  half-lowering,  half-inquisitive 
glances  in  my  direction. 

"  One  of  the  Witherspoon  boys?  "  queried  one. 

"  Perhaps,"  snarled  the  other.  "  I  never  saw  but 
one  of  them.  There  are  five,  aren't  there?  Eustace 
believed  in  marrying  off  his  gals  young." 

"  Damn  him,  yes !  And  he'd  have  married  them 
off  younger  if  he  had  known  how  numbers  were 
going  to  count  some  day  among  the  Westonhaughs." 
And  he  laughed  again  in  a  way  I  should  certainly 
have  felt  it  my  business  to  resent  if  my  indignation, 
as  well  as  the  ill-timed  allusions  which  had  called  it 
forth,  had  not  been  put  to  an  end  by  a  fresh  arrival 
through  the  veiling  mist  which  hung  like  a  shroud 
at  the  doorway. 

This  time  it  was  for  me  to  experience  a  shock  of 
something  like  fear.  Yet  the  personage  who  called 
up  this  unlooked-for  sensation  in  my  naturally  hardy 
nature  was  old,  and  to  all  appearance  harmless  from 
disability,  if  not  from  good-will.  His  form  was 
bent  over  upon  itself  like  a  bow;  and  only  from  the 


THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST  377 

glances  he  shot  from  his  upturned  eyes  was  the  fact 
made  evident  that  a  redoubtable  nature,  full  of  force 
and  malignity,  had  just  brought  its  quota  of  evil  into 
a  room  already  overflowing  with  dangerous  and 
menacing  passions. 

As  this  old  wretch,  either  from  the  feebleness  of 
age  or  from  the  infirmity  I  have  mentioned,  had 
great  difficulty  in  walking,  he  had  brought  with  him 
a  small  boy,  whose  business  it  was  to  direct  his 
tottering  steps  as  best  he  could. 

But  once  settled  in  his  chair,  he  drove  away  this 
boy  with  his  pointed  oak  stick,  and  with  some  harsh 
words  about  caring  for  the  horse  and  being  in  time 
in  the  morning,  he  sent  him  out  into  the  mist.  As 
this  little  shivering  and  pathetic  figure  vanished,  the 
old  man  drew  with  gasp  and  haw  a  number  of  deep 
breaths,  which  shook  his  bent  back,  and  did  their 
share,  no  doubt,  in  restoring  his  own  disturbed  cir- 
culation. Then,  with  a  sinister  twist  which  brought 
his  pointed  chin  and  twinkling  eyes  again  into  view, 
he  remarked: 

"  Haven't  ye  a  word  for  kinsman  Luke,  you  two? 
It  isn't  often  I  get  out  among  ye.  Shakee,  nephew ! 
Shakee,  Hector!  And  now,  who's  the  boy  in  the 
window?  My  eyes  aren't  what  they  used  to  be, 
but  he  don't  seem  to  favour  the  Westonhaughs  over- 
much. One  of  Salmon's  four  grandchildren,  think 
'e?  Or  a  shoot  from  Eustace's  gnarled  old  trunk? 
His  gals  all  married  Americans,  and  one  of  them, 
I've  been  told,  was  a  yellow-haired  giant  like  this 
fellow." 


378  THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST 

At  this  description,  pointed  directly  toward  me,  I 
was  about  to  venture  a  response  on  my  own  account, 
when  my  attention,  as  well  as  theirs,  was  freshly 
attracted  by  a  loud  "  Whoa !  "  at  the  gate,  followed 
by  the  hasty  but  assured  entrance  of  a  dapper,  wizen, 
but  perfectly  preserved  little  old  gentleman  with  a 
bag  in  his  hand. 

Looking  askance  with  eyes  that  were  like  two 
beads,  first  at  the  two  men,  who  were  now  elbowing 
each  other  for  the  best  place  before  the  fire,  and 
next  at  the  revolting  figure  in  the  chair,  he  bestowed 
his  greeting,  which  consisted  of  an  elaborate  bow, 
not  on  them,  but  upon  the  picture  hanging  so  con- 
spicuously on  the  open  wall  before  him;  and  then, 
taking  me  within  the  scope  of  his  quick,  circling 
glance,  cried  out  with  an  assumption  of  great  cor- 
diality: 

"Good-evening,  gentlemen;  good-evening  one, 
good-evening  all.  Nothing  like  being  on  the  tick. 
I'm  sorry  the  night  has  turned  out  so  badly.  Some, 
may  find  it  too  thick  for  travel.  That  would  be 
bad,  eh?  very  bad — for  them." 

As  none  of  the  men  he  openly  addressed  saw  fit 
to  answer,  save  by  the  hitch  of  a  shoulder  or  a  leer 
quickly  suppressed,  I  kept  silent  also.  But  this 
reticence,  marked  as  it  was,  did  not  seem  to  offend 
the  newcomer.  Shaking  the  wet  from  the  umbrella 
he  held,  he  stood  the  dripping  article  up  in  a  corner, 
and  then  came  and  placed  his  feet  on  the  fender. 
To  do  this  he  had  to  crowd  between  the  two  men 
already  occupying  the  best  part  of  the  hearth.  But 


THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST  379 

he  showed  no  concern  at  incommoding  them,  and 
bore  their  cross  looks  and  threatening  gestures  with 
professional  equanimity. 

"  You  know  me?  "  he  now  unexpectedly  snapped, 
bestowing  another  look  over  his  shoulder  at  that 
oppressive  figure  in  the  chair.  (Did  I  say  that  I  had 
risen  when  the  latter  sat?)  "  I'm  no  Westonhaugh, 
I ;  nor  yet  a  Witherspoon  nor  a  Clapsaddle.  I'm 
only  Smead,  the  lawyer — Mr.  Anthony  Weston- 
haugh's  lawyer,"  he  repeated,  with  another  glance  of 
recognition  in  the  direction  of  the  picture.  "  I  drew 
up  his  last  will  and  testament,  and,  until  all  of  his 
wishes  have  been  duly  carried  out,  am  entitled  by 
the  terms  of  that  will  to  be  regarded  both  legally 
and  socially  as  his  representative.  This  you  all 
know,  but  it  is  my  way  to  make  everything  clear  as 
I  proceed.  A  lawyer's  trick,  no  doubt.  I  do  not 
pretend  to  be  entirely  exempt  from  such." 

A  grumble  from  the  large  man,  who  seemed  to 
have  been  disturbed  in  some  absorbing  calculation 
he  was  carrying  on,  mingled  with  a  few  muttered 
words  of  forced  acknowledgment  from  the  restless 
old  sinner  in  the  chair,  made  it  unnecessary  for  me  to 
reply,  even  if  the  last  comer  had  given  me  the 
opportunity. 

"  It's  getting  late !  "  he  cried,  with  an  easy  gar- 
rulity rather  amusing  under  the  circumstances. 
"  Two  more  trains  came  in  as  I  left  the  depot.  If 
old  Phil  was  on  hand  with  his  waggon,  several  more 
members  of  this  interesting  family  may  be  here 
before  the  clock  strikes;  if  not,  the  assemblage  is  like 


380  THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST 

to  be  small.  Too  small,"  I  heard  him  grumble  a 
minute  after,  under  his  breath. 

"  I  wish  it  were  a  matter  of  one,"  spoke  up  the 
big  man,  striking  his  breast  in  a  way  to  make  it 
perfectly  apparent  whom  he  meant  by  that  word  one. 
And  having  (if  I  may  judge  by  the  mingled  laugh 
and  growl  of  his  companions)  thus  shown  his  hand 
both  figuratively  and  literally,  he  relapsed  into  the 
calculation  which  seemed  to  absorb  all  of  his  un- 
occupied moments. 

"Generous,  very!"  commented  the  lawyer  in  a 
murmur  which  was  more  than  audible.  "  Pity  that 
sentiments  of  such  broad  benevolence  should  go  un- 
rewarded." 

This,  because  at  that  very  instant  wheels  were 
heard  in  front,  also  a  jangle  of  voices,  in  some  con- 
troversy about  fares,  which  promised  anything  but 
a  pleasing  addition  to  the  already  none  too  desirable 
company. 

"  I  suppose  that's  Sister  Janet,"  snarled  out  the 
one  addressed  as  Hector.  There  was  no  love  in 
his  voice,  despite  the  relationship  hinted  at,  and  I 
awaited  the  entrance  of  this  woman  with  some 
curiosity. 

But  her  appearance,  heralded  by  many  a  puff  and 
pant  which  the  damp  air  exaggerated  in  a  prodigious 
way,  did  not  seem  to  warrant  the  interest  I  had 
shown  in  it.  As  she  stepped  into  the  room  I  saw  only 
a  big  frowsy  woman,  who  had  attempted  to  make 
a  show  with  a  new  silk  dress  and  a  hat  in  the  latest 
fashion,  but  who  had  lamentably  failed  owing  to 


THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST  381 

the  slouchiness  of  her  figure  and  some  misadven- 
ture, by  which  her  hat  had  been  set  awry  on  her  head 
and  her  usual  complacency  destroyed.  Later,  I  noted 
that  her  down-looking  eyes  had  a  false  twinkle  in 
them,  and  that,  commonplace  as  she  looked,  she 
was  one  to  steer  clear  of  in  times  of  necessity  and 
distress. 

She,  too,  evidently  expected  to  find  the  door  open 
and  people  assembled,  but  she  had  not  anticipated 
being  confronted  by  the  portrait  on  the  wall,  and 
cringed  in  an  unpleasant  way  as  she  stumbled  by  it 
into  one  of  the  ill-lighted  corners. 

The  old  man,  who  had  doubtless  caught  the  rustle 
of  her  dress  as  she  passed  him,  emitted  one  short 
sentence. 

"  Almost  late,"  said  he. 

Her  answer  was  a  sputter  of  words. 

"  It's  the  fault  of  that  driver,"  she  complained. 
u  If  he  had  taken  one  drop  more  at  the  half-way 
house  I  might  really  not  have  got  here  at  all.  That 
would  not  have  inconvenienced  you.  But  oh!  what 
a  grudge  I  would  have  owed  that  skinflint  brother 
of  ours  " — here  she  shook  her  fist  at  the  picture — 
"  for  making  our  good  luck  depend  upon  our  arrival 
within  two  short  strokes  of  the  clock!  " 

"  There  are  several  to  come  yet,"  blandly  ob- 
served the  lawyer.  But  before  the  words  were  well 
out  of  his  mouth  we  all  became  aware  of  a  new 
presence — a  woman,  whose  sombre  grace  and  quiet 
bearing  gave  distinction  to  her  unobtrusive  entrance, 
and  caused  a  feeling  of  something  like  awe  to  follow 


382  THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST 

the  first  sight  of  her  cold  features  and  deep,  heavily- 
fringed  eyes.  But  this  soon  passed  in  the  more 
human  sentiment  awakened  by  the  soft  pleading 
which  infused  her  gaze  with  a  touching  femininity. 
She  wore  a  long  loose  garment,  which  fell  without 
a  fold  from  chin  to  foot,  and  in  her  arms  she  seemed 
to  carry  something. 

Never  before  had  I  seen  so  beautiful  a  woman. 
As  I  was  contemplating  her,  with  respect  but  yet 
with  a  masculine  intentness  I  could  not  quite  sup- 
press, two  or  three  other  persons  came  in.  And 
now  I  began  to  notice  that  the  eyes  of  all  these  people 
turned  mainly  one  way,  and  that  was  toward  the 
clock.  Another  small  circumstance  likewise  drew 
my  attention.  Whenever  any  one  entered — and 
there  were  one  or  two  additional  arrivals  during  the 
five  minutes  preceding  the  striking  of  the  hour — a 
frown  settled  for  an  instant  on  every  brow,  giving  to 
each  and  all  a  similar  look,  for  the  interpretation  of 
which  I  lacked  the  key.  Yet  not  on  every  brow 
either.  There  was  one  which  remained  undisturbed, 
and  showed  only  a  grand  patience. 

As  the  hands  of  the  big  clock  neared  the  point  of 
eight  a  furtive  smile  appeared  on  more  than  one 
face;  and  when  the  hour  rang  out  a  sigh  of  satisfac- 
tion swept  through  the  room,  to  which  the  little 
old  lawyer  responded  with  a  worldly-wise  grunt  as 
he  moved  from  his  place  and  proceeded  to  the 
door. 

This  he  had  scarcely  shut  when  a  chorus  of  voices 
rose  from  without.  Three  or  four  lingerers  had 


THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST  383 

pushed  their  way  as  far  as  the  gate,  only  to  see  the 
door  of  the  house  shut  in  their  faces. 

"Too  late!"  growled  old  man  Luke  from  be- 
tween the  locks  of  his  long  beard. 

"  Too  late !  "  shrieked  the  woman  who  had  come 
so  near  being  late  herself. 

"  Too  late !  "  smoothly  acquiesced  the  lawyer, 
locking  and  bolting  the  door  with  a  deft  and  assured 
hand. 

But  the  four  or  five  persons  who  thus  found 
themselves  barred  out  did  not  accept  without  a 
struggle  the  decision  of  the  more  fortunate  ones 
assembled  within.  More  than  one  hand  began 
pounding  on  the  door,  and  we  could  hear  cries  of: 
"The  train  was  behind  time!"  "Your  clock  is 
fast!  "  "  You  are  cheating  us;  you  want  it  all  for 
yourselves !  "  "  We  will  have  the  law  on  you !  "  and 
other  bitter  adjurations  unintelligible  to  me  from 
my  ignorance  of  the  circumstances  which  called  them 
forth. 

But  the  wary  old  lawyer  simply  shook  his  head 
and  answered  nothing;  whereat  a  murmur  of  grati- 
fication rose  from  within,  and  a  howl  of  almost 
frenzied  dismay  from  without,  which  latter  presently 
received  point  from  a  startling  vision  which  now 
appeared  at  the  casement  where  the  lights  burned. 
A  man's  face  looked  in,  and  behind  it,  that  of  a 
woman,  so  wild  and  maddened  by  some  sort  of 
heart-break  that  I  found  my  sympathies  aroused  in 
spite  of  the  glare  of  evil  passions  which  made  both 
of  these  countenances  something  less  than  human. 


384  THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST 

But  the  lawyer  met  the  stare  of  these  four  eyes 
with  a  quiet  chuckle,  which  found  its  echo  in  the 
ill-advised  mirth  of  those  about  him;  and  moving 
over  to  the  window  where  they  still  peered  in,  he 
drew  together  the  two  heavy  shutters  which  hitherto 
had  stood  back  against  the  wall,  and,  fastening  them 
with  a  bar,  shut  out  the  sight  of  this  despair,  if  he 
could  not  shut  out  the  protests  which  ever  and  anon 
were  shouted  through  the  keyhole. 

Meanwhile,  one  form  had  sat  through  this  wrhole 
incident  without  a  gesture;  and  on  the  quiet  brow, 
from  which  I  could  not  keep  my  eyes,  no  shadows 
appeared  save  the  perpetual  one  of  native  melan- 
choly, which  was  at  once  the  source  of  its  attraction 
and  the  secret  of  its  power. 

Into  what  sort  of  gathering  had  I  stumbled? 
And  why  did  I  prefer  to  await  developments  rather 
than  ask  the  simplest  question  of  any  one  about 
me? 

Meantime  the  lawyer  had  proceeded  to  make 
certain  preparations.  With  the  help  of  one  or  two 
willing  hands  he  had  drawn  the  great  table  into  the 
middle  of  the  room,  and,  having  seen  the  candles 
restored  to  their  places,  began  to  open  his  small  bag 
and  take  from  it  a  roll  of  paper  and  several  flat 
documents.  Laying  the  latter  in  the  centre  of  the 
table  and  slowly  unrolling  the  former,  he  consulted, 
with  his  foxy  eyes,  the  faces  surrounding  him,  and 
smiled  with  secret  malevolence,  as  he  noted  that 
every  chair  and  every  form  was  turned  away  from 
the  picture  before  which  he  had  bent  with  such 


THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST  385 

obvious  courtesy  on  entering.  I  alone  stood  erect, 
and  this  possibly  was  why  a  gleam  of  curiosity  was 
noticeable  in  his  glance,  as  he  ended  his  scrutiny  of 
my  countenance  and  bent  his  gaze  again  upon  the 
paper  he  held. 

"  Heavens!  "  thought  I.  "  What  shall  I  answer 
this  man  if  he  asks  me  why  I  continued  to  remain  in 
a  spot  where  I  have  so  little  business?  " 

The  impulse  came  to  go.  But  such  was  the  effect 
of  this  strange  convocation  of  persons,  at  night  and 
in  a  mist  which  was  itself  a  nightmare,  that  I  failed 
to  take  action  and  remained  riveted  to  my  place, 
while  Mr.  Smead  consulted  his  roll  and  finally  asked 
in  a  business-like  tone,  quite  unlike  his  previous 
sarcastic  speech,  the  names  of  those  whom  he  had 
the  pleasure  of  seeing  before  him. 

The  old  man  in  the  chair  spoke  up  first. 

"  Luke  Westonhaugh,"  he  announced. 

"  Very  good !  "  responded  the  lawyer. 

"  Hector  Westonhaugh,"  came  from  the  thin 
man. 

A  nod  and  a  look  toward  the  next. 

"  John  Westonhaugh." 

"  Nephew?  "  asked  the  lawyer. 

"  Yes." 

"Go  on,  and  be  quick;  supper  will  be  ready  at 
nine." 

"  Eunice  Westonhaugh,"  spoke  up  a  soft  voice. 

I  felt  my  heart  bound  as  if  some  inner  echo  re- 
sponded to  that  name. 

"  Daughter  of  whom?  " 


386  THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST 

"  Hudson  Westonhaugh,"  she  gently  faltered. 
"  My  father  is  dead — died  last  night.  I  am  his 
only  heir." 

A  grumble  of  dissatisfaction  and  a  glint  of  un- 
relieved hate  came  from  the  doubled-up  figure,  whose 
malevolence  had  so  revolted  me. 

But  the  lawyer  was  not  to  be  shaken. 

"  Very  good !  It  is  fortunate  you  trusted  your 
feet  rather  than  the  train.  And  now  you?  What 
is  your  name?  " 

He  was  looking,  not  at  me,  as  I  had  at  first  feared, 
but  at  the  man  next  to  me,  a  slim  but  slippery  youth, 
whose  small  red  eyes  made  me  shudder. 

"  William  Witherspoon." 

"  Barbara's  son?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Where  are  your  brothers?" 

"  One  of  them,  I  think,  is  outside  " — here  he 
laughed — "  the  other  is — sick." 

The  way  he  uttered  this  word  made  me  set  him 
down  as  one  to  be  especially  wary  of  when  he  smiled. 
But  then,  I  had  already  passed  judgment  on  him  at 
my  first  view. 

"  And  you,  madam?  " — this  to  the  large,  dowdy 
woman  with  the  uncertain  eye,  a  contrast  to  the 
young  and  melancholy  Eunice. 

"  Janet  Clapsaddle,"  she  replied,  waddling  hun- 
grily forward  and  getting  unpleasantly  near  the 
speaker,  for  he  moved  off  as  she  approached,  and 
took  his  stand  in  the  clear  space  at  the  head  of  the 
table. 


THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST  387 

"  Very  well,  Mistress  Clapsaddle.  You  were  a 
Westonhaugh,  I  believe?" 

"  You  believe,  sneak-faced  hypocrite  that  you 
are!  "  she  blurted  out.  "1  don't  understand  your 
lawyer  ways.  I  like  plain  speaking  myself.  Don't 
you  know  me,  and  Luke  and  Hector,  and — and  most 
of  us,  indeed,  except  that  puny,  white-faced  girl  yon- 
der, whom,  having  been  brought  up  on  the  other 
side  of  the  Ridge,  we  have  none  of  us  seen  since  she 
was  a  screaming  baby  in  Hildegarde's  arms.  And 
the  young  gentleman  over  there  " — here  she  indi- 
cated me — "  who  shows  so  little  likeness  to  the  rest 
of  the  family,  he  will  have  to  make  his  connection 
to  us  pretty  plain  before  we  shall  feel  like  ac- 
knowledging him,  either  as  the  son  of  one  of  Eus- 
tace's girls,  or  a  chip  from  Brother  Salmon's  hard 
old  block." 

As  this  caused  all  eyes  to  turn  upon  me,  even 
hers,  I  smiled  as  I  stepped  forward.  The  lawyer 
did  not  return  that  smile. 

"What  is  your  name?"  he  asked  shortly  and 
sharply,  as  if  he  distrusted  me. 

"  Hugh  Austin,"  was  my  quiet  reply. 

"  There  is  no  such  name  on  the  list,"  snapped  old 
Smead,  with  an  authoritative  gesture  toward  those 
who  seemed  anxious  to  enter  a  protest. 

"  Probably  not,"  I  returned,  "  for  I  am  not  a 
Witherspoon,  a  Westonhaugh,  nor  yet  a  Clapsaddle. 
I  am  merely  a  chance  wayfarer  passing  through  the 
town  on  my  way  West.  I  thought  this  house  was  a 
tavern,  or  at  least  a  place  I  could  lodge  in.  The 


388  THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST 

man  I  met  in  the  doorway  told  me  as  much,  and  so 
I  am  here.  If  my  company  is  not  agreeable,  or  if 
you  wish  this  room  to  yourselves,  let  me  go  into  the 
kitchen.  I  promise  not  to  meddle  with  the  supper, 
hungry  as  I  am.  Or  perhaps  you  wish  me  to  join 
the  crowd  outside;  it  seems  to  be  increasing." 

"  No,  no,"  came  from  all  parts  of  the  room. 
"  Don't  let  the  door  be  opened.  Nothing  could  keep 
Lemuel  and  his  crowd  out  if  they  once  got  foot  over 
the  threshold." 

The  lawyer  rubbed  his  chin.  He  seemed  to  be  in 
some  sort  of  quandary.  First  he  scrutinised  me 
from  under  his  shaggy  brows  with  a  sharp  gleam  of 
suspicion;  then  his  features  softened,  and,  with  a 
side-glance  at  the  young  woman  who  called  herself 
Eunice  (perhaps,  because  she  was  worth  looking  at, 
perhaps  because  she  had  partly  risen  at  my  words), 
he  slipped  toward  a  door  I  had  before  observed  in 
the  wainscoting  on  the  left  of  the  mantelpiece,  and 
softly  opened  it  upon  what  looked  like  a  narrow 
staircase. 

"We  cannot  let  you  go  out,"  said  he;  "  and  we 
cannot  let  you  have  a  finger  in  our  viands  before  the 
hour  comes  for  serving  them;  so  if  you  will  be  so 
good  as  to  follow  this  staircase  to  the  top,  you  will 
find  it  ends  in  a  room  comfortable  enough  for  the 
wayfarer  you  call  yourself.  In  that  room  you  can 
rest  till  the  way  is  clear  for  you  to  continue  your 
travels.  Better  we  cannot  do  for  you.  This  house 
is  not  a  tavern,  but  the  somewhat  valuable  property 
of "  He  turned  with  a  bow  and  smile,  as  every 


THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST  389 

one  there  drew  a  deep  breath;  but  no  one  ventured 
to  end  that  sentence. 

I  would  have  given  all  my  future  prospects 
(which,  by  the  way,  were  not  very  great)  to  remain 
in  that  room.  The  oddity  of  the  situation;  the 
mystery  of  the  occurrence;  the  suspense  I  saw  in 
every  face;  the  eagerness  of  the  cries  I  heard  re- 
doubled from  time  to  time  outside;  the  malevo- 
lence but  poorly  disguised  in  the  old  lawyer's 
countenance;  and,  above  all,  the  presence  of  that 
noble-looking  woman,  which  was  the  one  off-set  to 
the  general  tone  of  villainy  with  which  the  room 
was  charged,  filled  me  with  curiosity,  if  I  might  call 
it  by  no  other  name,  that  made  my  acquiescence  in 
the  demand  thus  made  upon  me  positively  heroic. 
But  there  seemed  no  other  course  for  me  to  follow, 
and  with  a  last  lingering  glance  at  the  genial  fire 
and  a  quick  look  about  me,  which,  happily,  en- 
countered hers,  I  stooped  my  head  to  suit  the  low 
and  narrow  doorway  opened  for  my  accommoda- 
tion, and  instantly  found  myself  in  darkness.  The 
door  had  been  immediately  closed  by  the  lawyer's 
impatient  hand. 


II 

WITH   MY   EAR  TO  THE  WAINSCOTING 

No  move  more  unwise  could  have  been  made  by 
the  old  lawyer — that  is,  if  his  intention  had  been  to 
rid  himself  of  an  unwelcome  witness.  For,  finding 


390  THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST 

myself  thrust  thus  suddenly  from  the  scene,  I  nat- 
urally stood  still  instead  of  mounting  the  stairs,  and, 
by  standing  still,  discovered  that  though  shut  from 
sight,  I  was  not  from  sound.  Distinctly  through  the 
panel  of  the  door,  which  was  much  thinner,  no  doubt, 
than  the  old  fox  imagined,  I  heard  one  of  the  men 
present  shout  out: 

"  Well,  that  makes  the  number  less  by  one!  " 

The  murmur  which  followed  this  remark  came 
plainly  to  my  ears,  and,  greatly  rejoicing  over  what 
I  considered  my  good  luck,  I  settled  myself  on  the 
lowest  step  of  the  stairs  in  the  hope  of  catching  some 
word  which  would  reveal  to  me  the  mystery  of  this 
scene. 

It  was  not  long  in  coming.  Old  Smead  had  now 
his  audience  before  him  in  good  shape,  and  his  next 
words  were  of  a  character  to  make  evident  the  pur- 
pose of  this  meeting. 

"  Heirs  of  Anthony  Westonhaugh,  deceased,"  he 
began  in  a  sing-song  voice  strangely  unmusical,  "  I 
congratulate  you  upon  your  good  fortune  at  being 
at  this  especial  moment  on  the  inner  rather  than 
outer  side  of  your  amiable  relative's  front-door. 
His  will,  which  you  have  assembled  to  hear  read,  is 
well  known  to  you.  By  it  his  whole  property — not 
so  large  as  some  of  you  might  wish,  but  yet  a  goodly 
property  for  farmers  like  yourselves — is  to  be  di- 
vided this  night,  share  and  share  alike,  among  such 
of  his  relatives  as  have  found  it  convenient  to  be 
present  here  between  the  strokes  of  half-past  seven 
and  eight.  If  some  of  our  friends  have  failed  us 


THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST  391 

through  sloth,  sickness,  or  the  misfortune  of  mis- 
taking the  road,  they  have  our  sympathy,  but  they 
cannot  have  his  dollars" 

"  Cannot  have  his  dollars !  "  echoed  a  rasping 
voice  which  from  its  smothered  sound  probably  came 
from  the  bearded  lips  of  the  old  reprobate  in  the 
chair. 

The  lawyer  waited  for  one  or  two  other  repeti- 
tions of  this  phrase  (a  phrase  which,  for  some  un- 
imaginable reason,  seemed  to  give  him  an  odd  sort 
of  pleasure),  then  he  went  on  with  greater  distinct- 
ness and  a  certain  sly  emphasis,  chilling  in  effect,  but 
very  professional : 

"Ladies  and  gentlemen,  shall  I  read  this  will?" 

"  No,  no !  The  division !  the  division !  Tell  us 
what  we  are  to  have !  "  rose  in  a  shout  about  him. 

There  was  a  pause.  I  could  imagine  the  sharp 
eyes  of  the  lawyer  travelling  from  face  to  face  as 
each  thus  gave  voice  to  his  cupidity,  and  the  thin 
curl  of  his  lips  as  he  remarked  in  a  low,  tantalising 
way: 

"  There  was  more  in  the  old  man's  clutches  than 
you  think." 

A  gasp  of  greed  shook  the  partition  against  which 
my  ear  was  pressed.  Some  one  must  have  backed  up 
against  the  wainscoting  since  my  departure  from  the 
room.  I  found  myself  wondering  which  of  them  it 
was.  Meantime  old  Smead  was  having  his  say,  with 
the  smoothness  of  a  man  who  perfectly  understands 
what  is  required  of  him. 

"  Mr.  Westonhaugh  would  not  have  put  you  to  so 


392  THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST 

much  trouble  or  had  you  wait  so  long  if  he  had  not 
expected  to  reward  you  amply.  There  are  shares 
in  this  bag  which  are  worth  thousands  instead  of 
hundreds.  Now,  now  stop  that!  Hands  off! 
hands  off!  There  are  calculations  to  make  first. 
How  many  of  you  are  there?  Count  yourselves 
up." 

"  Nine !  "  called  out  a  voice  with  such  rapacious 
eagerness  that  the  word  was  almost  unintelligible. 

"  Nine."  How  slowly  the  old  knave  spoke ! 
What  pleasure  he  seemed  to  take  in  the  suspense 
he  purposely  made  as  exasperating  as  possible! 

"  Well,  if  each  one  gets  his  share,  he  may  count 
himself  richer  by  two  hundred  thousand  dollars  than 
when  he  came  in  here  to-night." 

Two  hundred  thousand  dollars!  They  had  ex- 
pected no  more  than  thirty.  Surprise  made  them 
speechless — that  is,  for  a  moment;  then  a  pande- 
monium of  hurrahs,  shrieks,  and  loud-voiced  enthusi- 
asm made  the  room  ring  till  wonder  seized  them 
again,  and  a  sudden  silence  fell,  through  which  I 
caught  a  far-off  wail  of  grief  from  the  disappointed 
ones  without,  which,  heard  in  the  dark  and  narrow 
place  in  which  I  was  confined,  had  a  peculiarly  weird 
and  desolate  effect. 

Perhaps  it  likewise  was  heard  by  some  of  the 
fortunate  ones  within !  Perhaps  one  head,  to  mark 
which,  in  this  moment  of  universal  elation,  I  would 
have  given  a  year  from  my  life,  turned  toward  the 
dark  without,  in  recognition  of  the  despair  thus 
piteously  voiced;  but  if  so,  no  token  of  the  same 


THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST  393 

came  to  me,  and  I  could  but  hope  that  she  had 
shown  by  some  such  movement  the  natural  sympathy 
of  her  sex. 

Meanwhile  the  lawyer  was  addressing  the  com- 
pany in  his  smoothest  and  most  sarcastic  tones. 

"Mr.  Westonhaugh  was  a  wise  man — a  very  wise 
man,"  he  droned.  "  He  foresaw  what  your  pleasure 
would  be,  and  left  a  letter  for  you.  But  before  I 
read  it,  before  I  invite  you  to  the  board  he  ordered 
to  be  spread  for  you  in  honour  of  this  happy  occasion, 
there  is  one  appeal  he  bade  me  make  to  those  I 
should  find  assembled  here.  As  you  know,  he  was 
not  personally  acquainted  with  all  the  children  and 
grandchildren  of  his  many  brothers  and  sisters. 
Salmon's  sons,  for  instance,  were  perfect  strangers 
to  him,  and  all  those  boys  and  girls  of  the  Evans's 
branch  have  never  been  long  enough  this  side  of  the 
mountains  for  him  to  know  their  names,  much  less 
their  temper  or  their  lives.  Yet  his  heirs — or  such 
was  his  wish,  his  great  wish — must  be  honest  men, 
righteous  in  their  dealings,  and  of  stainless  lives. 
If,  therefore,  any  one  among  you  feels  that,  for 
reasons  he  need  not  state,  he  has  no  right  to  accept 
his  share  of  Anthony  Westonhaugh's  bounty,  then 
that  person  is  requested  to  withdraw  before  this  let- 
ter to  his  heirs  is  read." 

Withdraw?  Was  the  man  a  fool?  Withdraw? 
These  cormorants!  these  suckers  of  blood!  these 
harpies  and  vultures!  I  laughed  as  I  imagined 
sneaking  Hector,  malicious  Luke,  or  brutal  John 
responding  to  this  naive  appeal,  and  then  found 


394  THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST 

myself  wondering  why  no  echo  of  my  mirth  came 
from  the  men  themselves.  They  must  have  seen 
much  more  plainly  than  I  did  the  ludicrousness  of 
their  weak  old  kinsman's  demand;  yet  Luke  was 
still,  Hector  was  still,  and  even  John  and  the  three 
or  four  others  I  have  mentioned  gave  forth  no 
audible  token  of  disdain  or  surprise.  I  was  asking 
myself  what  sentiment  of  awe  or  fear  restrained 
these  selfish  souls,  when  I  became  conscious  of  a 
movement  within,  which  presently  resolved  itself  into 
a  departing  footstep. 

Some  conscience  there  had  been  awakened.  Some 
one  was  crossing  the  floor  toward  the  door.  Who? 
I  waited  in  anxious  expectancy  for  the  word  which 
was  to  enlighten  me.  Happily  it  came  soon,  and 
from  the  old  lawyer's  lips. 

"  You  do  not  feel  yourself  worthy?  "  he  queried, 
in  tones  I  had  not  heard  from  him  before.  "  Why? 
What  have  you  done  that  you  should  forego  an 
inheritance  to  which  these  others  feel  themselves 
honestly  entitled?" 

The  voice  which  answered  gave  both  my  mind  and 
heart  a  shock.  It  was  she  who  had  risen  at  this  call 
— she,  the  only  true-faced  person  there! 

Anxiously  I  listened  for  her  reply.  Alas !  it  was 
one  of  action  rather  than  speech.  As  I  afterwards 
heard,  she  simply  opened  her  long  cloak  and  showed 
a  little  infant  slumbering  in  her  arms. 

"  This  is  my  reason,"  said  she.  "  I  have  sinned  in 
the  eyes  of  the  world,  therefore  I  cannot  take  my 
share  of  Uncle  Anthony's  money.  I  did  not  know 


THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST  395 

he  exacted  an  unblemished  record  from  those  he 
expected  to  enrich,  or  I  would  not  have  come." 

The  sob  which  followed  these  last  words  showed 
at  what  a  cost  she  thus  renounced  a  fortune  of  which 
she,  of  all  present,  perhaps,  stood  in  the  greatest 
need;  but  there  was  no  lingering  in  her  step,  and  to 
me,  who  understood  her  fault  only  through  the  faint 
sound  of  infantile  wailing  which  accompanied  her 
departure,  there  was  a  nobility  in  her  action  which 
raised  her  in  an  instant  to  an  almost  ideal  height  of 
unselfish  virtue. 

Perhaps  they  felt  this,  too.  Perhaps  even  these 
hardened  men  and  the  more  than  hardened  woman 
whose  presence  was  in  itself  a  blight,  recognised 
heroism  when  they  saw  it;  for  when  the  lawyer,  with 
a  certain  obvious  reluctance,  laid  his  hand  on  the 
bolts  of  the  door  with  the  remark,  "  This  is  not  my 
work,  you  know ;  I  am  but  following  out  instructions 
very  minutely  given  me,"  the  smothered  growls  and 
grunts  which  rose  in  reply  lacked  the  venom 
which  had  been  infused  into  all  their  previous  com- 
ments. 

"  I  think  our  friends  out  there  are  far  enough 
withdrawn  by  this  time  for  us  to  hazard  the  opening 
of  the  door,"  the  lawyer  now  remarked.  "  Madam, 
I  hope  you  will  speedily  find  your  way  to  some  com- 
fortable shelter." 

Then  the  door  opened,  and  after  a  moment  closed 
again  in  a  silence  which  at  least  was  respectful.  Yet 
I  warrant  there  was  not  a  soul  remaining  who  had 
not  already  figured  in  his  mind  to  what  extent  his 


396  THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST 

own  fortune  had  been  increased  by  the  failure  of 
one  of  their  number  to  inherit. 

As  for  me,  my  whole  interest  in  the  affair  was  at 
an  end,  and  I  was  only  anxious  to  find  my  way  to 
where  this  desolate  woman  faced  the  mist  with  her 
unfed  baby  in  her  arms. 


Ill 

A  LIFE  DRAMA 

But,  to  reach  this  wanderer,  it  was  first  necessary 
for  me  to  escape  from  the  house.  This  proved 
simple  enough.  The  upstairs  room  toward  which 
I  rushed  had  a  window  overlooking  one  of  the 
many  lean-tos  already  mentioned.  The  window  was 
fastened,  but  I  had  little  difficulty  in  unlocking  it  or 
in  finding  my  way  to  the  ground  from  the  top  of  the 
lean-to.  But  once  again  on  terra-firma,  I  discovered 
that  the  mist  was  now  so  thick  that  it  had  all  the 
effect  of  a  fog  at  sea.  It  was  icy  cold  as  well,  and 
clung  to  me  so  closely  that  I  presently  began  to  shud- 
der most  violently,  and,  strong  man  though  I  was, 
wish  myself  back  in  the  little  attic  bedroom  from 
which  I  had  climbed  in  search  of  one  in  more  un- 
happy case  than  myself. 

But  these  feelings  did  not  cause  me  to  return.  If 
I  found  the  night  cold,  she  must  find  it  biting.  If 
desolation  oppressed  my  naturally  hopeful  spirit, 
must  it  not  be  more  overwhelming  yet  to  one  whose 


THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST  397 

memories  were  sad  and  whose  future  was  doubtful? 
And  the  child !  What  infant  could  live  in  an  air  like 
this?  Edging  away  from  the  house,  I  called  out  her 
name,  but  no  answer  came  back.  The  persons  whom 
we  had  heard  flitting  in  restless  longing  about  the 
house  a  few  moments  before  had  left  in  rage,  and 
she,  possibly,  with  them.  Yet  I  could  not  imagine 
her  joining  herself  to  people  of  their  stamp.  There 
had  been  a  solitariness  in  her  aspect  which  seemed  to 
forbid  any  such  companionship.  Whatever  her 
story,  at  least  she  had  nothing  in  common  with  the 
two  ill-favoured  persons  whose  faces  I  had  seen 
looking  in  at  the  casement.  No;  I  should  find  her 
alone,  but  where?  Certainly  the  ring  of  mist,  sur- 
rounding me  at  that  moment,  offered  me  little 
prospect  of  finding  her  anywhere,  either  easily  or 
soon. 

Again  I  raised  my  voice,  and  again  I  failed  to 
meet  with  response.  Then,  fearing  to  leave  the 
house  lest  I  should  be  quite  lost  amid  the  fences 
and  brush  lying  between  it  and  the  road,  I  began 
to  feel  my  way  along  the  walls,  calling  softly  now, 
instead  of  loudly,  so  anxious  was  I  not  to  miss  any 
chance  of  carrying  comfort,  if  not  succour,  to  the 
woman  I  was  seeking.  But  the  night  gave  back  no 
sound,  and  when  I  came  to  the  open  door  of  a  shed 
I  welcomed  the  refuge  it  offered,  and  stepped  in.  I 
was,  of  course,  confronted  by  darkness — a  different 
darkness  from  that  without,  blanket-like  and  impene- 
trable. But  when  after  a  moment  of  intense  listening 
I  heard  a  soft  sound  as  of  weariful  breathing,  I  was 


398  THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST 

seized  anew  by  hope,  and,  feeling  in  my  pocket 
for  my  matchbox,  I  made  a  light  and  looked 
around. 

My  intuitions  had  not  deceived  me :  she  was  there. 
Sitting  on  the  floor  with  her  cheek  pressed  against 
the  wall,  she  revealed  to  my  eager  scrutiny  only  the 
outlines  of  her  pure,  pale  profile;  but  in  those  out- 
lines and  on  those  pure,  pale  features  I  saw  such  an 
abandonment  of  hope,  mingled  with  such  quiet  en- 
durance, that  my  whole  soul  melted  before  it,  and 
it  was  with  difficulty  I  managed  to  say: 

"Pardon!  I  do  not  wish  to  intrude;  but  I  am 
shut  out  of  the  house  also,  and  the  night  is  raw  and 
cold.  Can  I  do  nothing  for  your  comfort  or  for — 
for  the  child's?" 

She  turned  toward  me,  and  I  saw  the  faintest 
gleam  of  pleasure  tremble  in  the  sombre  stillness  of 
her  face,  and  then  the  match  went  out  in  my  hand, 
and  we  were  again  in  complete  darkness.  But  the 
little  wail,  which  at  the  same  instant  rose  from 
between  her  arms,  filled  up  the  pause  as  her  sweet 
"Hush!  "filled  my  heart. 

"  I  am  used  to  the  cold,"  came  in  another  moment 
from  the  place  where  she  crouched.  "  It  is  the  child 
— she  is  hungry;  and  I — I  walked  here — feeling, 
hoping  that,  as  my  father's  heir,  I  might  partake  in 
some  slight  measure  of  Uncle  Anthony's  money. 
Though  my  father  cast  me  out  before  he  died,  and 
I  have  neither  home  nor  money,  I  do  not  complain. 

I  forfeited  all  when "  Another  wail,  another 

gentle  "  Hush !  "  then  silence. 


THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST  399 

I  lit  another  match.  "  Look  in  my  face !  "  I 
prayed.  "  I  am  a  stranger,  and  you  would  be  show- 
ing only  proper  prudence  not  to  trust  me.  But  I 
overheard  your  words  when  you  withdrew  from  the 
room  where  your  fortune  lay;  and  I  honour  you, 
madam.  If  food  can  be'  got  for  your  little  one,  I 
will  get  it." 

I  caught  sight  of  the  convulsive  clasp  with  which 
she  drew  to  her  breast  the  tiny  bundle  she  held; 
then  darkness  fell  again. 

"  A  little  bread,"  she  entreated;  "  a  little  milk — 
ah,  baby,  baby,  hush !  " 

"  But  where  can  I  get  it?  "  I  cried.  "  They  are 
at  table  inside.  I  hear  them  shouting  over  their  good 
cheer.  But  perhaps  there  are  neighbours  near  by. 
Do  you  know?  " 

"  There  are  no  neighbours,"  she  replied.  "  What 
is  got  must  be  got  here.  I  know  a  way  to  the 
kitchen;  I  used  to  visit  Uncle  Anthony  when  a  little 
child.  If  you  have  the  courage — 

I  laughed.  This  token  of  confidence  seemed 
to  reassure  her.  I  heard  her  move;  possibly  she 
stood  up. 

"  In  the  further  corner  of  this  shed,"  said  she, 
"  there  used  to  be  a  trap,  connecting  this  floor  with 
an  underground  passage-way.  A  ladder  stood 
against  the  trap,  and  the  small  cellar  at  the  foot 
communicated  by  means  of  an  iron-bound  door  with 
the  large  one  under  the  house.  Eighteen  years  ago 
the  wood  of  that  door  was  old;  now  it  should  be 
rotten.  If  you  have  the  strength " 


400  THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST 

"  I  will  make  the  effort  and  see,"  said  I.  "  But 
when  I  am  in  the  cellar,  what  then?  " 

"  Follow  the  wall  to  the  right;  you  will  come  to  a 
stone  staircase.  As  this  staircase  has  no  railing,  be 
careful  in  ascending  it.  At  the  top  you  will  find  a 
door;  it  leads  into  a  pantry  adjoining  the  kitchen. 
Some  one  will  be  in  that  pantry.  Some  one  will  give 
you  a  bite  for  the  child,  and  when  she  is  quieted  and 
the  sun  has  risen  I  will  go  away.  It  is  my  duty  to 
do  so.  My  uncle  was  always  upright,  if  cold.  He 
was  perfectly  justified  in  exacting  rectitude  in  his 
heirs." 

I  might  have  rejoined  by  asking  if  she  detected 
rectitude  in  the  faces  of  the  greedy  throng  she  had 
left  behind  her  with  the  guardian  of  this  estate,  but 
I  did  not;  I  was  too  intent  upon  following  out  her 
directions.  Lighting  another  match,  I  sought  the 
trap.  Alas!  it  was  burdened  with  a  pile  of  sticks 
and  rubbish  which  looked  as  if  they  had  lain  there 
for  years.  As  these  had  to  be  removed  in  total 
darkness,  it  took  me  some  time.  But  once  this 
debris  had  been  scattered  and  thrown  aside,  I  had  no 
difficulty  in  finding  the  trap,  and,  as  the  ladder  was 
still  there,  I  was  soon  on  the  cellar-bottom.  When, 
by  the  reassuring  shout  I  gave,  she  knew  that  I  had 
advanced  thus  far,  she  spoke,  and  her  voice  had  a 
soft  and  thrilling  sound. 

"  Don't  forget  your  own  needs,"  she  said.  "  We 
two  are  not  so  hungry  that  we  cannot  wait  for  you 
to  take  a  mouthful.  I  will  sing  to  the  baby.  Good- 
bye." 


THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST  401 

These  ten  minutes  we  had  spent  together  had 
made  us  friends.  The  warmth,  the  strength  which 
this  discovery  brought,  gave  to  my  arm  a  force  that 
made  that  old  oak  door  go  down  before  me  in  three 
vigorous  pushes. 

Had  the  eight  fortunate  ones  above  not  been  in- 
dulging in  a  noisy  celebration  of  their  good  luck, 
they  must  have  heard  the  clatter  of  this  door  when 
it  fell.  But  good  eating,  good  drink,  and  the 
prospect  of  an  immediate  fortune  far  beyond  their 
wildest  dreams,  made  all  ears  deaf,  and  no  pause 
occurred  in  the  shouts  of  laughter  and  the  hum  of 
good-fellowship  which  sifted  down  between  the 
beams  supporting  the  house  above  my  head.  Con- 
sequently, little  or  no  courage  was  required  for  the 
completion  of  my  adventure;  and  before  long  I  came 
upon  the  staircase  and  the  door  leading  from  its  top 
into  the  pantry.  The  next  minute  I  was  in  front  of 
that  door. 

But  here  a  surprise  awaited  me.  The  noise,  which 
had  hitherto  been  loud,  now  became  deafening,  and 
I  realised  that,  contrary  to  Eunice  Westonhaugh's 
expectation,  the  supper  had  been  spread  in  the 
kitchen,  and  that  I  was  likely  to  run  amuck  of  the 
whole  despicable  crowd  in  any  effort  I  might  make 
to  get  a  bite  for  the  famished  baby. 

I  therefore  naturally  hesitated  to  push  open  the 
door,  fearing  to  draw  attention  to  myself;  and  when 
I  did  succeed  in  lifting  the  latch  and  making  a  small 
crack,  I  was  so  astonished  by  the  sudden  lull  in  the 


402  THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST 

general  babble  that  I  drew  hastily  back  and  was  for 
descending  the  stairs  in  sudden  retreat. 

But  I  was  prevented  from  carrying  out  this  cow- 
ardly impulse  by  catching  the  sound  of  the  lawyer's 
voice,  addressing  the  assembled  guests. 

"  You  have  eaten  and  you  have  drunk,"  he  was 
saying;  "  you  are  therefore  ready  for  the  final  toast. 
Brothers,  nephews — heirs  all  of  Anthony  Weston- 
haugh,  I  rise  to  propose  the  name  of  your  generous 
benefactor,  who,  if  spirits  walk  this  earth,  must  cer- 
tainly be  with  us  to-night." 

A  grumble  from  more  than  one  throat  and  an 
uneasy  hitch  from  such  shoulders  as  I  could  see 
through  my  narrow  vantage-hole  testified  to  the 
rather  doubtful  pleasure  with  which  this  suggestion 
was  received.  But  the  lawyer's  tones  lost  none  of 
their  animation,  as  he  went  on  to  say: 

"  The  bottle,  from  which  your  glasses  are  to  be 
replenished  for  this  final  draught,  he  has  himself 
provided.  So  anxious  was  he  that  it  should  be  of  the 
very  best  and  altogether  worthy  of  the  occasion  it  is 
to  celebrate,  that  he  gave  into  my  charge,  almost 
with  his  dying  breath,  this  key,  telling  me  that  it 
would  unlock  a  cupboard  here  in  which  he  had 
placed  a  bottle  of  wine  of  the  very  rarest  vintage. 
This  is  the  key,  and  yonder,  if  I  do  not  mistake,  is 
the  cupboard." 

They  had  already  quaffed  a  dozen  toasts.  Per- 
haps this  was  why  they  accepted  this  proposition  in 
a  sort  of  panting  silence,  which  remained  unbroken 
while  the  lawyer  crossed  the  floor,  unlocked  the 


THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST  403 

cupboard,  and  brought  out  before  them  a  bottle 
which  he  held  up  before  their  eyes  with  a  simulated 
glee  almost  saturnine. 

"Isn't  that  a  bottle  to  make  your  eyes  dance? 
The  very  cobwebs  on  it  are  eloquent.  And  see ! 
look  at  this  label.  Tokay,  friends — real  Tokay! 
How  many  of  you  ever  had  the  opportunity  of 
drinking  real  Tokay  before?  " 

A  long  deep  sigh  from  a  half-dozen  throats,  in 
which  some  strong  but  hitherto  repressed  passion, 
totally  incomprehensible  to  me,  found  sudden  vent, 
rose  in  one  simultaneous  sound  from  about  that 
table,  and  I  heard  one  jocular  voice  sing  out: 

"Pass  it  around,  Smead!  I'll  drink  to  Uncle 
Anthony  out  of  that  bottle  till  there  isn't  a  drop  left 
to  tell  what  was  in  it !  " 

But  the  lawyer  was  in  no  hurry. 

"  You  have  forgotten  the  letter,  for  the  hearing 
of  which  you  are  called  together.  Mr.  Anthony 
Westonhaugh  left  behind  him  a  letter.  The  time 
is  now  come  for  reading  it." 

As  I  heard  these  words,  and  realised  that  the  final 
toast  was  to  be  delayed,  and  that  some  few  moments 
must  yet  elapse  before  the  room  would  be  cleared 
and  an  opportunity  given  me  for  obtaining  what 
I  needed  for  the  famishing  mother  and  child,  I  felt 
such  impatience  with  the  fact,  and  so  much  anxiety 
as  to  the  condition  of  those  I  had  left  behind  me, 
that  I  questioned  whether  it  would  not  be  better  for 
me  to  return  to  them  empty-handed  than  to  leave 


404  THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST 

them  so  long  without  the  comfort  of  my  presence, 
when  the  fascination  of  the  scene  again  seized  me, 
and  I  found  myself  lingering  to  mark  its  conclusion 
with  an  avidity  which  can  only  be  explained  by  my 
sudden  and  intense  consciousness  of  what  it  all  might 
mean  to  her  whose  witness  I  had  thus  inadvertently 
become. 

The  careful  lawyer  began  by  quoting  the  injunc- 
tion with  which  this  letter  had  been  put  in  his  hands. 

'  When  they  are  warm  with  food  and  wine,  but  not 
too  warm  ' — thus  his  adjuration  ran — '  then  let 
them  hear  my  first  and  only  words  to  them.'  I 
know  you  are  eager  for  these  words.  Folk  so 
honest,  so  convinced  of  their  own  purity  and  up- 
rightness that  they  can  stand  unmoved  while  the 
youngest  and  most  helpless  among  them  withdraws 
her  claim  to  wealth  and  independence  rather  than 
share  an  unmerited  bounty — such  folk,  I  say,  must 
be  eager,  must  be  anxious,  to  know  why  they  have 
been  made  the  legatees  of  so  great  a  fortune  under 
the  easy  conditions  and  amid  such  slight  restrictions 
as  have  been  impos£d  upon  them  by  their  munificent 
kinsman." 

"  I  had  rather  go  on  drinking  toasts,"  babbled  one 
thick  voice. 

"  I  had  rather  finish  my  figuring,"  growled  an- 
other, in  whose  grating  tones  no  echo  remained  of 
Hector  Westonhaugh's  formerly  honeyed  voice.  "  I 
am  making  out  a  list  of  stock " 

"  Blast  your  stock — that  is,  if  you  mean  horses 
and  cows!  "  screamed  a  third.  "  I'm  going  in  for 


THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST  405 

city  life.  With  less  money  than  we  have  got,  An- 
dreas Amsberger  got  to  be  Alderman " 

"Alderman!"  sneered  the  whole  pack;  and  the 
tumult  became  general.  "  If  more  of  us  had  been 
sick,"  called  out  one,  "  or  if  Uncle  Luke,  say,  had 
tripped  into  the  ditch  instead  of  on  the  edge  of  it, 
the  fellows  who  came  safe  through  might  have  had 
anything  they  wanted,  even  to  the  governorship  of 
the  State,  or — or " 

"  Silence!  "  came  in  commanding  tones  from  the 
lawyer,  who  had  begun  to  let  his  disgust  appear, 
perhaps  because  he  held  under  his  thumb  the  bottle 
upon  which  all  eyes  were  now  lovingly  centred — so 
lovingly,  indeed,  that  I  ventured  to  increase  in  the 
smallest  perceptible  degree  the  crack  by  means  of 
which  I  was  myself  an  interested,  if  unseen,  par- 
ticipator in  this  scene. 

A  sight  of  Smead,  and  a  partial  glimpse  of  old 
Luke's  covetous  profile,  rewarded  this  small  act  of 
daring  on  my  part.  The  lawyer  was  standing;  all 
the  rest  were  sitting.  Perhaps  he  alone  retained 
sufficient  steadiness  to  stand,  for  I  observed  by  the 
control  he  exercised  over  this  herd  of  self-seekers 
that  he  had, not  touched  the  cup  which  had  so 
freely  gone  about  among  the  others.  The  woman 
was  hidden  from  me,  but  the  change  in  her  voice, 
when  by  any  chance  I  heard  it,  convinced  me  that 
she  had  not  disdained  the  toasts  drunk  by  her 
brothers  and  nephews. 

"Silence!"  the  lawyer  reiterated,  "or  I  will 
smash  this  bottle  on  the  hearth !  "  He  raised  it  in 


4o6  THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST 

one  threatening  hand,  and  every  man  there  seemed 
to  tremble,  while  old  Luke  put  out  his  long  fingers 
with  an  entreaty  that  ill  became  them.  "  You  want 
to  hear  the  letter?"  old  Smead  called  out.  "I 
thought  so." 

Putting  the  bottle  down  again,  but  still  keeping 
one  hand  upon  it,  he  drew  a  folded  paper  from  his 
breast.  "  This,"  said  he,  "  contains  the  final  injunc- 
tions of  Anthony  Westonhaugh.  You  will  listen,  all 
of  you — listen  till  I  am  done — or  I  will  not  only 
smash  this  bottle  before  your  eyes,  but  I  will  keep 
forever  buried  in  my  breast  the  whereabouts  of  cer- 
tain drafts  and  bonds  in  which,  as  his  heirs,  you 
possess  the  greatest  interest.  Nobody  but  myself 
knows  where  these  papers  can  be  found." 

Whether  this  was  so,  or  whether  the  threat  was  an 
empty  one,  thrown  out  by  this  subtle  old  schemer 
for  the  purpose  of  safeguarding  his  life  from  their 
possible  hate  and  impatience,  it  answered  his  end 
with  these  semi-intoxicated  men,  and  secured  him 
the  silence  he  demanded.  Breaking  open  the  seal  of 
the  envelope  he  held,  he  showed  them  the  folded 
sheet  which  it  contained  with  the  remark: 

"  I  have  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  writing  of 
this  letter.  It  is  in  Mr.  Westonhaugh's  own  hand, 
and  he  was  not  even  so  good  as  to  communicate  to 
me  the  nature  of  its  contents.  I  was  bidden  to  read 
it  to  such  as  should  be  here  assembled  under  the 
provisos  mentioned  in  his  will ;  and  as  you  are  now 
in  a  condition  to  listen,  I  will  proceed  with  my  task 
as  required." 


THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST  407 

This  was  my  time  for  leaving,  but  a  certain  brood- 
ing terror,  latent  in  the  air,  held  me  chained  to  the 
spot,  listening  with  my  ears,  but  receiving  the  full 
sense  of  what  was  read  from  the  expression  of  old 
Luke's  face,  which  was  probably  more  plainly  visible 
to  me  than  to  those  who  sat  beside  him.  For,  being 
bent  almost  into  a  bow,  as  I  have  said,  his  forehead 
came  within  an  inch  of  touching  his  plate,  and  one 
had  to  look  under  his  arms,  as  I  did,  to  catch  the 
workings  of  his  evil  mouth,  as  old  Smead  gave  forth, 
in  his  professional  sing-song,  the  following  words 
from  his  departed  client: 

"  '  Brothers,  nephews,  and  heirs !  Though  the 
earth  has  lain  upon  my  breast  a  month,  I  am  with 
you  here  to-night.'  " 

A  snort  from  old  Luke's  snarling  lips,  and  a  stir — 
not  a  comfortable  one — in  the  jostling  crowd,  whose 
shaking  arms  and  clawing  hands  I  could  see  pro- 
jecting here  and  there  over  the  board. 

"  '  My  presence  at  this  feast — a  presence  which, 
if  unseen,  cannot  be  unfelt,  may  bring  you  more 
pain  than  pleasure.  But  if  so,  it  matters  little.  You 
are  my  natural  heirs,  and  I  have  left  you  my  money. 
Why,  when  so  little  love  has  characterised  our  inter- 
course, must  be  evident  to  such  of  my  brothers  as 
can  recall  their  youth  and  the  promise  our  father 
exacted  from  us  on  the  day  we  set  foot  in  this  new 
land. 

"  '  There  were  nine  of  us  in  those  days — Luke, 
Salmon,  Barbara,  Hector,  Eustace,  Janet,  Hudson, 
William,  and  myself — and  all  save  one  were  promis- 


4o8  THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST 

ing,  in  appearance  at  least.  But  our  father  knew 
his  offspring,  and  when  we  stood,  an  alien  and  miser- 
able band  in  front  of  Castle  Garden,  at  the  foot  of 
the  great  city  whose  immensity  struck  terror  to  our 
hearts,  he  drew  all  our  hands  together  and  made 
us  swear  by  the  soul  of  our  mother,  whose  body  we 
had  left  in  the  sea,  that  we  would  keep  the  bond  of 
brotherhood  intact,  and  share  with  mutual  confi- 
dence whatever  good  fortune  this  untried  country 
might  hold  in  store  for  us.  You  were  strong,  and 
your  voices  rang  out  loudly.  Mine  was  faint,  for  I 
was  weak — so  weak  that  my  hand  had  to  be  held  in 
place  by  my  sister  Barbara.  But  my  oath  has  never 
lost  its  hold  upon  my  heart,  while  yours — answer 
how  you  have  kept  it,  Luke;  or  you,  Janet;  or 
you,  Hector,  of  the  smooth  tongue  and  vicious  heart; 
or  you,  or  you,  who,  from  one  stock,  recognise  but 
one  law — the  law  of  cold-blooded  selfishness,  which 
seeks  its  own  in  face  of  all  oaths  and  at  the  cost  of 
another  man's  heart-break. 

"  '  This  I  say  to  such  as  know  my  story.  But 
lest  there  be  one  amongst  you  who  has  not  heard 
from  parent  or  uncle  the  true  tale  of  him  who  has 
brought  you  all  under  one  roof  to-night,  I  will  re- 
peat it  here  in  words,  that  no  man  may  fail  to  under- 
stand why  I  remembered  my  oath  through  life  and 
beyond  death,  yet  stand  above  you  an  accusing  spirit 
while  you  quaff  me  toasts  and  count  the  gains  my 
justice  divides  among  you. 

1 '  I,  as  you  all  remember,  was  the  weak  one — 
the  ne'er-do-weel.  When  all  of  you  were  grown  and 


THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST  409 

had  homes  of  your  own,  I  still  remained  under  the 
family  roof-tree,  fed  by  our  father's  bounty  and  look- 
ing to  our  father's  justice  for  that  share  of  his 
savings  which  he  had  promised  to  all  alike.  When 
he  died  it  came  to  me  as  it  came  to  you;  but  I  had 
married  before  that  day — married,  not,  like  the  rest 
of  you,  for  what  a  wife  could  bring,  but  for  senti- 
ment and  true  passion.  This,  in  my  case,  meant  a 
loving  wife,  but  a  frail  one;  and  while  we  lived  a 
little  while  on  the  patrimony  left  us,  it  was  far  too 
small  to  support  us  long  without  some  aid  from  our 
own  hands;  and  our  hands  were  feeble  and  could 
not  work.  And  so  we  fell  into  debt  for  rent  and, 
ere  long,  for  the  commonest  necessities  of  life.  In 
vain  I  struggled  to  redeem  myself;  the  time  of  my 
prosperity  had  not  come,  and  I  only  sank  deeper  and 
deeper  into  debt,  and  finally  into  indigence.  A  baby 
came.  Our  landlord  was  kind,  and  allowed  us  to 
stay  for  two  weeks  under  the  roof  for  whose  protec- 
tion we  could  not  pay;  but  at  the  end  of  that  time  we 
were  asked  to  leave,  and  I  found  myself  on  the  road 
with  a  dying  wife,  a  wailing  infant,  no  money  in  my 
purse,  and  no  power  in  my  arm  to  earn  any.  Then, 
when  heart  and  hope  were  both  failing,  I  recalled 
that  ancient  oath  and  the  six  prosperous  homes  scat- 
tered up  and  down  the  very  highway  on  which  I 
stood.  I  could  not  leave  my  wife ;  the  fever  was  in 
her  veins,  and  she  could  not  bear  me  out  of  her 
sight;  so  I  put  her  on  a  horse,  which  a  kind  old 
neighbour  was  willing  to  lend  me,  and  holding  her 
up  with  one  hand,  guided  the  horse  with  the  other 


4io  THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST 

to  the  home  of  my  brother  Luke.  He  was  a 
straight  enough  fellow  in  those  days — physically,  I 
mean — and  he  looked  able  and  strong  that  morning, 
as  he  stood  in  the  open  doorway  of  his  house,  gazing 
down  at  us  as  we  halted  before  him  in  the  roadway. 
But  his  temper  had  grown  greedy  with  the  accumula- 
tion of  a  few  dollars,  and  he  shook  his  head  as  he 
closed  his  door,  saying  he  remembered  no  oath,  and 
that  spenders  must  expect  to  be  beggars. 

"  '  Struck  to  the  heart  by  a  rebuff  which  meant 
prolongation  of  the  suffering  I  saw  in  my  dear  wife's 
eyes,  I  stretched  up  and  kissed  her  where  she  sat 
half  fainting  on  the  horse;  then  I  moved  on.  I 
came  to  Barbara's  home  next.  She  had  been  a  little 
mother  to  me  once — that  is,  she  had  fed  and  dressed 
me,  and  doled  out  blows  and  caresses,  and  taught 
me  to  read  and  sing.  But  Barbara  in  her  fathers 
home  and  without  fortune  was  not  the  Barbara  I 
saw  on  the  threshold  of  the  little  cottage  she  called 
her  own.  She  heard  my  story;  looked  in  the  face 
of  my  wife,  and  turned  her  back.  She  had  no  place 
for  idle  folk  in  her  little  house;  if  we  would  work 
she  would  feed  us ;  but  we  must  earn  our  supper  or 
go  hungry  to  bed.  I  felt  the  trembling  of  my  wife's 
frame  where  she  leaned  against  my  arm,  and  kissing 
her  again,  led  her  on  to  Salmon's.  Luke,  Hector, 
Janet,  have  you  heard  him  tell  of  that  vision  at  his 
gateway,  twenty-five  years  ago?  He  is  not  amongst 
you.  For  twelve  years  he  has  lain  beside  our  father 
in  the  churchyard,  but  his  sons  may  be  here,  for 
they  were  ever  alert  when  gold  was  in  sight  or  a  full 


THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST  41 1 

glass  to  be  drained.  Ask  them,  ask  John,  whom  I 
saw  skulking  behind  his  cousins  at  the  garden  fence 
that  day,  what  it  was  they  saw  as  I  drew  rein  under 
the  great  tree  which  shadowed  their  father's  door- 
step. 

'  The  sunshine  had  been  pitiless  that  morning, 
and  the  head,  for  whose  rest  in  some  loving  shelter 
I  would  have  bartered  soul  and  body,  had  fallen 
sidewise  till  it  lay  on  my  arm.  Pressed  to  her  breast 
was  our  infant,  whose  little  wail  struck  in  pitifully  as 
Salmon  called  out,  "What's  to  do  here  to-day?" 
Do  you  remember  it,  lads?  Or  how  you  all  laughed, 
little  and  great,  when  I  asked  for  a  few  weeks'  stay 
under  my  brother's  roof  till  we  could  all  get  well  and 
go  about  our  tasks  again?  7  remember.  I,  who 
am  writing  these  words  from  the  very  mouth  of  the 
tomb,  /  remember;  but  I  did  not  curse  you.  I  only 
rode  on  to  the  next.  The  way  ran  uphill  now; 
and  the  sun  which,  since  our  last  stop,  had  been 
under  a  cloud,  came  out  and  blistered  my  wife's 
cheeks,  already  burning  red  with  fever.  But  I 
pressed  my  lips  upon  them,  and  led  her  on.  With 
each  rebuff  I  gave  her  a  kiss;  and  her  smile,  as  her 
head  pressed  harder  and  harder  upon  my  arm,  now 
exerting  all  its  strength  to  support  her,  grew  almost 
divine.  But  it  vanished  at  my  nephew  Lemuel's. 

:  '  He  was  shearing  sheep,  and  could  give  no  time 
to  company;  and  when  late  in  the  day  I  drew  rein  at 
Janet's,  and  she  said  she  was  going  to  have  a  dance, 
and  could  not  look  after  sick  folk,  the  pallid  lips 
failed  to  return  my  despairing  embrace;  and  in  the 


412  THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST 

terror  which  this  brought  me  I  went  down  in  the 
gathering  twilight  into  the  deep  valley  where  Wil- 
liam raised  his  sheep,  and  reckoned  day  by  day  the 
increase  among  his  pigs.  Oh,  the  chill  of  that 
descent!  Oh,  the  gloom  of  the  gathering  shadows! 
As  we  neared  the  bottom,  and  I  heard  a  far-off  voice 
shout  out  a  hoarse  command,  some  instinct  made  me 
reach  up  for  the  last  time  and  bestow  that  faithful 
kiss,  which  was  at  once  her  consolation  and  my 
prayer.  My  lips  were  cold  with  the  terror  of  my 
soul,  but  they  were  not  so  cold  as  the  cheek  they 
touched,  and,  shrieking  in  my  misery  and  need,  I 
fell  before  William  where  he  halted  by  the  horse- 
trough  and He  was  always  a  hard  man,  was 

William,  and  it  was  a  shock  to  him,  no  doubt,  to  see 
us  standing  in  our  anguish  and  necessity  before  him; 
but  he  raised  the  whip  in  his  hand,  and  when  it  fell 
my  arm  fell  with  it,  and  she  slipped  from  my  grasp 
to  the  ground  and  lay  in  a  heap  in  the  roadway. 

' '  He  was  ashamed  next  minute,  and  pointed  to 
the  house  nearby.  But  I  did  not  carry  her  in,  and 
she  died  in  the  roadway.  Do  you  remember  it, 
Luke?  Do  you  remember  it,  Lemuel? 

"  '  But  it  is  not  of  this  that  I  complain  at  this  hour, 
nor  is  it  for  this  I  ask  you  to  drink  the  toast  I  havt 
prepared  for  you.'  " 

The  looks,  the  writhings  of  old  Luke  and  such 
others  as  I  could  now  see  through  the  widening 
crack  my  hands  unconsciously  made  in  the  doorway, 
told  me  that  the  rack  was  at  work  in  this  room  so 
lately  given  up  to  revelry.  Yet  the  mutterings,  which 


THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST  413 

from  time  to  time  came  to  my  ears  from  one  sullen 
lip  or  another,  did  not  rise  into  frightened  impreca- 
tion or  even  into  any  assertion  of  sorrow  or  con- 
trition. It  seemed  as  if  some  suspense  common  to  all 
held  them  speechless,  if  not  dumbly  apprehensive; 
and  while  the  lawyer  said  nothing  in  recognition  of 
this,  he  could  not  have  been  quite  blind  to  it,  for  he 
bestowed  one  curious  glance  around  the  table  before 
he  proceeded  with  old  Anthony's  words. 

Those  words  had  now  become  short,  sharp,  and 
accusatory. 

'  '  My  child  lived,  and  what  remained  to  me  of 
human  passion  and  longing  centred  in  his  frail  exist- 
ence. I  managed  to  earn  enough  for  his  eating  and 
housing,  and  in  time  I  was  almost  happy  again. 
This  was  while  our  existence  was  a  struggle;  but 
when,  with  the  discovery  of  latent  powers  in  my  own 
mind,  I  began  to  find  my  place  in  the  world  and  to 
earn  money,  then  your  sudden  interest  in  my  boy 
taught  me  a  new  lesson  in  human  selfishness,  but 
not  as  yet  new  fears.  My  nature  was  not  one  to 
grasp  ideas  of  evil,  and  the  remembrance  of  that 
oath  still  remained  to  make  me  lenient  toward  you. 

"  '  I  let  him  see  you;  not  much,  not  often,  but  yet 
often  enough  for  him  to  realise  that  he  had  uncles 
and  cousins,  or,  if  you  like  it  better,  kindred.  And 
how  did  you  repay  this  confidence  on  my  part? 
What  hand  had  ye  in  the  removal  of  this  small  bar- 
rier to  the  fortune  my  own  poor  health  warranted 
you  in  looking  upon  even  in  those  early  days  as 
your  own?  To  others'  eyes  it  may  appear  none;  to 


414  THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST 

mine,  ye  are  one  and  all  his  murderers  as  certainly 
as  all  of  you  were  the  murderers  of  the  good 
physician  hastening  to  his  aid.  For  his  illness  was 
not  a  mortal  one.  He  would  have  been  saved  if  the 
doctor  had  reached  him;  but  a  precipice  swallowed 
that  good  Samaritan,  and  only  I  of  all  who  looked 
upon  the  footprints  which  harrowed  up  the  road  at 
this  dangerous  point  knew  whose  shoes  would  fit 
those  marks.  God's  providence,  it  was  called,  and  I 
let  it  pass  for  such;  but  it  was  a  providence  which 
cost  me  my  boy  and  made  you  my  heirs.'  " 

Silence,  as  sullen  in  character  as  the  men  who 
found  themselves  thus  openly  impeached,  had  for 
some  minutes  now  replaced  the  muttered  complaints 
which  had  accompanied  the  first  portion  of  this  de- 
nunciatory letter.  As  the  lawyer  stopped  to  cast 
them  another  of  those  strange  looks,  a  gleam  from 
old  Luke's  sidewise  eyes  startled  the  man  next  him, 
who,  shrugging  a  shoulder,  passed  the  underhanded 
look  on,  till  it  had  circled  the  board  and  stopped 
with  the  man  sitting  opposite  the  crooked  sinner 
who  had  started  it. 

I  began  to  have  a  wholesome  dread  of  them  all, 
and  was  astonished  to  see  the  lawyer  drop  his  hand 
from  the  bottle,  which  to  some  degree  offered  itself 
as  a  possible  weapon.  But  he  knew  his  audience 
better  than  I  did.  Though  the  bottle  was  now  free 
for  any  man's  taking,  not  a  hand  trembled  toward 
it,  nor  was  a  single  glass  held  out. 

The  lawyer,  with  an  evil  smile,  went  on  with  his 
relentless  client's  story. 


THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST  415 

1  Ye  had  killed  my  wife;  ye  had  killed  my  son; 
but  this  was  not  enough.  Being  lonesome  in  my 
great  house,  which  was  as  much  too  large  for  me  as 
my  fortune  was,  I  had  taken  a  child  to  replace  the 
boy  I  had  lost.  Remembering  the  cold  blood  run- 
ning in  the  veins  of  those  nearest  me,  I  chose  a  boy 
from  alien  stock,  and  for  a  while  knew  contentment 
again.  But  as  he  developed  and  my  affections 
strengthened,  the  possibility  of  all  my  money  going 
his  way  roused  my  brothers  and  sisters  from  the 
complacency  they  had  enjoyed  since  their  road  to 
fortune  had  been  secured  by  my  son's  death,  and 
one  day — can  you  recall  it,  Hudson  ?  Can  you  recall 
it,  Lemuel  ? — the  boy  was  brought  in  from  the  mill, 
and  laid  at  my  feet  dead!  He  had  stumbled 
amongst  the  great  belts,  but  whose  was  the  voice 
which,  with  the  loud  "  Halloo!  "  had  startled  him? 
Can  you  say,  Luke?  Can  you  say,  John?  I  can 
say,  in  whose  ear  it  was  whispered  that  three,  if  not 
more  of  you  were  seen  moving  among  the  machinery 
that  fatal  morning. 

"  '  Again  God's  providence  was  said  to  have 
visited  my  house;  and  again  ye  were  my  heirs.'  " 

"  Stop  there !  "  broke  in  the  harsh  voice  of  Luke, 
who  was  gradually  growing  livid  under  his  long  grey 
locks. 

"  Lies !  lies !  "  shrieked  Hector,  gathering  courage 
from  his  brother. 

"  Cut  it  all  and  give  us  the  drink!  "  snarled  one  of 
the  younger  men,  who  was  less  under  the  effect  of 
liquor  than  the  rest. 


416  THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST 

But  a  trembling  voice  muttered  "  Hush!  "  and  the 
lawyer,  whose  eye  had  grown  steely  under  these 
comments,  took  advantage  of  the  sudden  silence 
which  had  followed  this  last  objurgation,  and  went 
steadily  on: 

'  '  Some  men  would  have  made  a  will  and  de- 
nounced you.  I  made  a  will,  but  did  not  denounce 
you.  /  am  no  breaker  of  oaths.  More  than  this,  I 
learned  a  new  trick.  I,  who  hated  all  subtlety,  and 
looked  upon  craft  as  the  favourite  weapon  of  the 
devil,  learned  to  smile  with  my  lips  while  my  heart 
was  burning  with  hatred.  Perhaps  this  was  why  you 
all  began  to  smile,  too,  and  joke  me  about  certain 
losses  I  had  sustained,  by  which  you  meant  the  gains 
which  had  come  to  me.  That  these  gains  were  many 
times  greater  than  you  realised  added  to  the  sting 
of  this  good-fellowship,  but  I  held  my  peace,  and 
you  began  to  have  confidence  in  a  good-nature 
which  nothing  could  shake.  You  even  gave  me  a 
supper.'  " 

A  supper! 

What  was  there  in  these  words  to  cause  every 
man  there  to  stop  in  whatever  movement  he  was 
making,  and  stare  with  wide-open  eyes  intently  at 
the  reader?  He  had  spoken  quietly;  he  had  not 
even  looked  up;  but  the  silence  which  for  some 
minutes  back  had  begun  to  reign  over  that  tumultuous 
gathering  now  became  breathless,  and  the  seams  in 
Hector's  cheeks  deepened  to  a  bluish  criss-cross. 

"  '  You  remembeY  that  supper?  ' ' 

As  the  word  rang  out  again  I  threw  wide  the 


THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST  417 

door.  I  might  have  stalked  openly  into  their  circle; 
not  a  man  there  would  have  noticed  me. 

'  '  It  was  a  memorable  occasion,'  "  the  lawyer 
read  on,  with  stoical  impassiveness.  "  '  There  was 
not  a  brother  lacking.  Luke,  and  Hudson,  and  Wil- 
liam, and  Hector,  and  Eustace's  boys,  as  well  as 
Eustace  himself;  Janet  too,  and  Salmon's  Lemuel, 
and  Barbara's  son,  who,  even  if  his  mother  had  gone 
the  way  of  all  flesh,  had  so  trained  her  black  brood 
in  the  love  of  the  things  of  this  world  that  I  scarcely 
missed  her  when  I  looked  about  among  you  all  for 
the  eight  sturdy  brothers  and  sisters  who  had  joined 
in  one  clasp  and  one  oath  under  the  eye  of  a  true- 
hearted  immigrant,  our  father.  What  I  did  miss 
was  one  true  eye  lifted  to  my  glance;  but  I  did  not 
show  that  I  missed  it.  And  so  our  peace  was  made, 
and  we  separated,  you  to  wait  for  your  inheritance, 
and  I  for  the  death  which  was  to  secure  it  to  you. 
For  when  the  cup  passed  round  that  night  you  each 
dropped  into  it  a  tear  of  repentance,  and  tears  make 
bitter  drinking.  I  sickened  as  I  quaffed,  and  was 
never  myself  again,  as  you  know.  Do  you  under- 
stand me,  you  cruel,  crafty  ones?'  ' 

Did  they  not!  Heads  quaking,  throats  gasping, 
teeth  chattering — no  longer  sitting — all  risen,  all 
looking  with  wild  eyes  for  the  door — was  it  not 
apparent  that  they  understood,  and  only  waited  for 
one  more  word  to  break  away  and  flee  the  accursed 
house? 

But  that  word  lingered.  Old  Smead  had  now 
grown  pale  himself,  and  read  with  difficulty  the  lines 


418  THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST 

which  were  to  end  this  frightful  scene.  As  I  saw 
the  red  gleam  of  terror  shine  out  from  his  small 
eyes,  I  wondered  if  he  had  been  but  the  blind  tool 
of  his  implacable  client,  and  was  as  ignorant  as  those 
before  him  of  what  was  to  follow  this  heavy  arraign- 
ment. The  dread  with  which  he  finally  proceeded 
was  too  marked  for  me  to  doubt  the  truth  of  this 
surmise.  This  is  what  he  found  himself  forced  to 
read  : 

"  '  There  was  a  bottle  reserved  for  me.  It  had  a 
green  label  on  it '  " 

A  shriek  from  every  one  there  and  a  hurried  look 
up  and  down  at  the  bottles  standing  on  the  table. 

"  '  A  green  label,'  "  the  lawyer  repeated,  "  '  and  it 
made  a  goodly  appearance  as  it  was  set  down  before 
me.  But  you  had  no  liking  for  wine  with  a  green 
label  on  the  bottle.  One  by  one  you  refused  it,  and 
when  I  rose  to  quaff  my  final  glass  alone,  every  eye 
before  me  fell  and  did  not  lift  again  until  the  glass 
was  drained.  I  did  not  notice  this  then,  but  I  see 
it  all  now,  just  as  I  hear  again  the  excuses  you  gave 
for  not  filling  your  glasses  as  the  bottle  went  round. 
One  had  drunk  enough;  one  suffered  from  qualms 
brought  on  by  an  unaccustomed  indulgence  in 
oysters;  one  felt  that  wine  good  enough  for  me 
was  too  good  for  him,  and  so  on,  and  so  on.  Not 
one  to  show  frank  eyes  and  drink  with  me  as  I  was 
ready  to  drink  with  him!  Why?  Because  one  and 
all  of  you  knew  what  was  in  that  cup,  and  would  not 
risk  an  inheritance  so  nearly  within  your  grasp.'  " 

"  Lies!  lies!  "  again  shrieked  the  raucous  voice  of 


THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST  419 

Luke,  smothered  by  terror;  while  oaths,  shouts,  im- 
precations, rang  out  in  horrid  tumult  from  one  end 
of  the  table  to  the  other,  till  the  lawyer's  face,  over 
which  a  startling  change  was  rapidly  passing,  drew 
the  whole  crowd  forward  again  in  awful  fascination, 
till  they  clung,  speechless,  arm  in  arm,  shoulder 
propping  shoulder,  while  he  gasped  out  in  dismay 
equal  to  their  own  these  last  fatal  words : 

"'That  was  at  your  board,  my  brothers;  now 
you  are  at  mine.  You  have  eaten  my  viands,  drunk 
of  my  cup ;  and  now,  through  the  mouth  of  the  one 
man  who  has  been  true  to  me  because  therein  lies  his 
advantage,  I  offer  you  a  final  glass.  Will  you  drink 
it?  I  drank  yours.  By  that  old-time  oath  which 
binds  us  to  share  each  other's  fortune,  I  ask  you  to 
share  this  cup  with  me.  You  will  not?  ' ' 

"No,  no,  no!  "  shouted  one  after  another. 

"  '  Then,'  "  the  inexorable  voice  went  on,  a  voice 
which  to  these  miserable  souls  was  no  longer  that  of 
the  lawyer,  but  an  issue  from  the  grave  they  had 
themselves  dug  for  Anthony  Westonhaugh,  "  '  know 
that  your  abstinence  comes  too  late;  that  you  have 
already  drunk  the  toast  destined  to  end  your  lives. 
The  bottle  which  you  must  have  missed  from  that 
board  of  yours  has  been  offered  you  again.  A  label 
is  easily  changed,  and — Luke,  John,  Hector,  I  know 
you  all  so  well — that  bottle  has  been  greedily  emptied 
by  you;  and  while  I,  who  sipped  sparingly,  lived 
three  weeks,  you,  who  have  drunk  deep,  have  not 
three  hours  before  you,  possibly  not  three  minutes.'  " 

Oh,  the  wail  of  those  lost  souls  as  this  last  sentence 


420  THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST 

issued  in  a  final  pant  of  horror  from  the  lawyer's 
quaking  lips !  Shrieks — howls — prayers  for  mercy — - 
groans  deep  enough  to  make  the  hair  rise — and 
curses,  at  sound  of  which  I  shut  my  ears  in  horror, 
only  to  open  them  again  in  dread,  as,  with  one 
simultaneous  impulse,  they  flung  themselves  upon  the 
lawyer,  who,  foreseeing  this  rush,  had  backed  up 
against  the  wall. 

He  tried  to  stem  the  tide. 

"  I  knew  nothing  of  the  poisoning,"  he  protested. 
"  That  was  not  my  reason  for  declining  to  drink. 
I  wished  to  preserve  my  senses — to  carry  out  my 
client's  wishes.  As  God  lives,  I  did  not  know  he 
meant  to  carry  his  revenge  so  far.  Mercy ! 


But  the  hands  which  clutched  him  were  the  hands 
of  murderers,  and  the  lawyer's  puny  figure  could 
not  stand  up  against  the  avalanche  of  human  terror, 
relentless  fury,  and  mad  vengeance  which  now  rolled 
in  upon  it.  As  I  bounded  to  his  relief  he  turned  his 
ghastly  face  upon  me.  But  the  way  between  us  was 
blocked,  and  I  was  preparing  myself  to  see  him  sink 
before  my  eyes  when  an  unearthly  shriek  rose  from 
behind  us,  and  every  living  soul  in  that  mass  of 
struggling  humanity  paused,  set  and  staring,  with 
stiffened  limbs  and  eyes  fixed,  not  on  him,  not  on 
me,  but  on  one  of  their  own  number — the  only 
woman  amongst  them,  Janet  Clapsaddle — who,  with 
clutching  hands  clawing  her  breast,  was  reeling  in 
solitary  agony  in  her  place  beside  the  board.  As 
they  looked  she  fell,  and  lay  with  upturned  face  and 


THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST  421 

staring  eyes,  in  whose  glassy  depths  the  ill-fated 
ones  who  watched  her  could  see  mirrored  their  own 
impending  doom. 

It  was  an  awful  moment.  A  groan,  in  which  was 
concentrated  the  despair  of  seven  miserable  souls, 
rose  from  that  petrified  band;  then,  man  by  man, 
they  separated  and  fell  back,  showing  on  each  weak 
or  wicked  face  the  particular  passion  which  had 
driven  them  into  crime  and  made  them  the  victims 
of  this  wholesale  revenge.  There  had  been  some 
sort  of  bond  between  them  till  the  vision  of  death 
rose  before  each  shrinking  soul.  Shoulder  to 
shoulder  in  crime,  they  fell  apart  as  their  doom  ap- 
proached, and  rushing,  shrieking,  each  man  for  him- 
self, they  one  and  all  sought  to  escape  by  doors, 
windows,  or  any  outlet  which  promised  release  from 
this  fatal  spot.  One  rushed  by  me — I  do  not  know 
which  one — and  I  felt  as  if  a  flame  from  hell  had 
licked  me,  his  breath  was  so  hot  and  the  moans  he 
uttered  so  like  the  curses  we  imagine  to  blister  the 
lips  of  the  lost.  None  of  them  saw  me;  they  did 
not  even  detect  the  sliding  form  of  the  lawyer  crawl- 
ing away  before  them  to  some  place  of  egress  of 
which  they  had  no  knowledge ;  and,  convinced  that  in 
this  scene  of  death  I  could  play  no  part  worthy  of 
her  who  awaited  me,  I  too  rushed  away,  and,  seeking 
my  old  path  through  the  cellar,  sought  her  side, 
where  she  still  crouched  in  patient  waiting  against  the 
dismal  wall. 


422  THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST 

IV 

THE    FINAL   SHOCK 

Her  baby  had  fallen  asleep.  I  knew  this  by  the 
faint,  low  sweetness  of  her  croon;  and,  shuddering 
with  the  horrors  I  had  witnessed — horrors  which 
acquired  a  double  force  from  the  contrast  presented 
by  the  peace  of  this  quiet  spot  and  the  hallowing 
influence  of  the  sleeping  infant — I  threw  myself 
down  in  the  darkness  at  her  feet,  gasping  out: 

"  Oh,  thank  God  and  your  uncle's  seeming  harsh- 
ness that  you  have  escaped  the  doom  which  has 
overtaken  those  others!  You  and  your  babe  are 
still  alive;  while  they " 

"  What  of  them?  What  has  happened  to  them? 
You  are  breathless,  trembling;  you  have  brought  no 
bread " 

"  No,  no.'  Food  in  this  house  means  death.  Your 
relatives  gave  food  and  wine  to  your  uncle  at  a 
supper;  he,  though  now  in  his  grave,  has  returned 
the  same  to  them.  There  was  a  bottle " 

I  stopped,  appalled.  A  shriek,  muffled  by  distance 
but  quivering  with  the  same  note  of  death  I  had 
heard  before,  had  gone  up  again  from  the  other  side 
of  the  wall  against  which  we  were  leaning. 

"  Oh  I  "  she  gasped,  "  and  my  father  was  at  that 
supper!  my  father,  who  died  last  night  cursing  the 
day  he  was  born !  We  are  an  accursed  race !  I 
have  known  it  all  my  life.  Perhaps  that  was  why  I 


THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST  423 

mistook  passion  for  love.  And  my  baby — O  God, 
have  mercy !  God,  have  mercy !  " 

The  plaintiveness  of  that  cry,  the  awesomeness  of 
what  I  had  seen — of  what  was  going  on  at  that 
moment  almost  within  the  reach  of  our  arms — the 
darkness,  the  desolation  of  our  two  souls,  affected 
me  as  I  had  never  been  affected  in  my  whole  life 
before.  In  the  concentrated  experience  of  the  last 
two  hours  I  seemed  to  have  lived  years  under  this 
woman's  eyes;  to  know  her  as  I  did  my  own  heart;  to 
love  her  as  I  did  my  own  soul.  No  growth  of  feeling 
ever  brought  the  ecstasy  of  that  moment's  inspira- 
tion. With  no  sense  of  doing  anything  strange,  with 
no  fear  of  being  misunderstood,  I  reached  out  my 
hand,  and,  touching  hers  where  it  lay  clasped  about 
her  infant,  I  said: 

"  We  are  two  poor  wayfarers.  A  rough  road 
loses  half  its  difficulties  when  trodden  by  two.  Shall 
we,  then,  fare  on  together — you,  I,  and  the  little 
child?" 

She  gave  a  sob ;  there  was  sorrow,  longing,  grief, 
hope  in  its  thrilling,  low  sound.  As  I  recognised 
the  latter  emotion  I  drew  her  to  my  breast.  The 
child  did  not  separate  us. 

"  We  shall  be  happy,"  I  murmured,  and  her  sigh 
seemed  to  answer  a  delicious  "  Yes,"  when  suddenly 
there  came  a  shock  to  the  partition  against  which 
we  leaned,  and,  starting  from  my  clasp,  she 
cried: 

"  Our  duty  is  in  there.  Shall  we  think  of  our- 
selves, or  even  of  each  other,  while  these  men,  all 


424  THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST 

relatives  of  mine,  are  dying  on  the  other  side  of  this 
wall?" 

Seizing  my  hand,  she  dragged  me  to  the  trap; 
but  here  I  took  the  lead  and  helped  her  down  the 
ladder.  When  I  had  her  safely  on  the  floor  at  the 
foot  she  passed  in  front  of  me  again;  but  once  up 
the  steps  and  in  front  of  the  kitchen  door  I  thrust 
her  behind  me,  for  one  glance  into  the  room  beyond 
had  convinced  me  it  was  no  place  for  her. 

But  she  would  not  be  held  back.  She  crowded 
forward  beside  me,  and  together  we  looked  upon 
the  wreck  within.  It  was  a  never-to-be-forgotten 
scene.  The  demon  that  was  in  those  men  had 
driven  them  to  demolish  furniture,  dishes,  every- 
thing. In  one  heap  lay  what,  an  hour  before,  had 
been  an  inviting  board  surrounded  by  rollicking  and 
greedy  guests.  But  it  was  not  upon  this  overthrow 
we  stopped  to  look.  It  was  upon  something  that 
mingled  with  it,  dominated  it,  and  made  of  this  chaos 
only  a  setting  to  awful  death.  Janet's  face,  in  all  its 
natural  hideousness  and  depravity,  looked  up  from 
the  floor  beside  this  heap;  and  farther  on,  lay  the 
twisted  figure  of  him  they  called  Hector,  with  some- 
thing more  than  the  seams  of  greedy  longing  round 
his  wide-staring  eyes  and  icy  temples.  Two  in  this 
room!  and  on  the  threshold  of  the  one  beyond  a 
moaning  third,  who  sank  into  eternal  silence  as  we 
approached;  and  before  the  fireplace  in  the  great 
room  a  horrible  crescent  that  had  once  been  aged 
Luke,  upon  whom  we  had  no  sooner  turned  our 
backs  than  we  caught  glimpses  here  and  there  of 


THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST  425 

other  prostrate  forms  which  moved  once  under  our 
eyes  and  then  moved  no  more. 

One  only  still  stood  upright,  and  he  was  the  man 
whose  obtrusive  figure  and  sordid  expression  had  so 
revolted  me  in  the  beginning.  There  was  no  colour 
now  in  his  flabby  and  heavily  fallen  cheeks.  The 
eyes,  in  whose  false  sheen  I  had  seen  so  much  of  evil, 
were  glazed  now,  and  his  big  and  burly  frame  shook 
the  door  it  pressed  against.  He  was  staring  at  a 
small  slip  of  paper  he  held,  and,  from  his  anxious 
looks,  appeared  to  miss  something  which  neither  of 
us  had  power  to  supply.  It  was  a  spectacle  to  make 
devils  rejoice  and  mortals  fly  aghast.  But  Eunice 
had  a  spirit  like  an  angel,  and,  drawing  near  him, 
she  said: 

"  Is  there  anything  I  can  do  for  you,  Cousin 
John?" 

He  started,  looked  at  her  with  the  same  blank 
gaze  he  had  hitherto  cast  at  the  wall,  then  some 
words  formed  on  his  working  lips,  and  we  heard  : 

"  I  cannot  reckon ;  I  was  never  good  at  figures. 
But  if  Luke  is  gone,  and  William,  and  Hector,  and 
Barbara's  boy,  and  Janet,  how  much  does  that  leave 
for  me?" 

He  was  answered  almost  the  moment  he  spoke, 
but  it  was  by  other  tongues,  and  in  another  world 
than  this.  As  his  body  fell  forward  I  tore  open  the 
door  before  which  he  had  been  standing,  and,  lifting 
the  almost  fainting  Eunice  in  my  arms,  I  carried  her 
out  into  the  night.  As  I  did  so  I  caught  a  final 
glimpse  of  the  pictured  face  I  had  found  it  so  hard 


426  THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST 

to  understand  a  couple  of  hours  before.     I  under- 
stood it  now. 

A  surprise  awaited  us  as  we  turned  toward  the 
gate.  The  mist  had  lifted,  and  a  keen  but  not  un- 
pleasant wind  was  driving  from  the  north.  Borne 
on  it  we  heard  voices.  The  village  had  emptied 
itself,  probably  at  the  alarm  given  by  the  lawyer, 
and  it  was  these  good  men  and  women  whose  ap- 
proach we  heard.  As  we  had  nothing  to  fear  from 
them  we  went  forward  to  meet  them.  As  we  did  so 
three  crouching  figures  rose  from  some  bushes  we 
passed  and  ran  scurrying  before  us  through  the  gate- 
way. They  were  the  late-comers  who  had  shown 
such  despair  at  being  shut  out  from  this  fatal  house, 
and  who  probably  were  not  yet  acquainted  with  the 
doom  they  had  escaped. 

There  were  lanterns  in  the  hands  of  some  of  the 
men  who  now  approached.  As  we  stopped  before 
them  these  lanterns  were  held  up,  and  by  the  light 
they  gave  we  saw,  first,  the  lawyer's  frightened  face, 
then  the  visages  of  two  men  who  seemed  to  be  per- 
sons of  some  authority. 

"  What  news?  "  faltered  the  lawyer,  seeing  by  our 
faces  that  we  knew  the  worst. 

"Bad,"  I  returned;  "the  poison  had  lost  none 
of  its  virulence  by  being  mixed  so  long  with  the 
wine." 

"How  many?"  asked  the  man  on  his  right 
anxiously. 

"  Eight,"  was  my  solemn  reply. 


THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST  427 

"There  were  but  eight,"  faltered  the  lawyer; 
"  that  means,  then,  all?" 

"  All,"  I  repeated. 

A  murmur  of  horror  rose,  swelled,  then  died  out 
in  tumult  as  the  crowd  swept  on  past  us. 

For  a  moment  we  stood  watching  these  people; 
saw  them  pause  before  the  door  we  had  left  open 
behind  us,  then  rush  in,  leaving  a  wail  of  terror  on 
the  shuddering  midnight  air.  When  all  was  quiet 
again,  Eunice  laid  her  hand  upon  my  arm. 

"Where  shall  we  go?"  she  asked  despairingly. 
"  I  do  not  know  of  a  house  that  will  open  to  me." 

The  answer  to  her  question  came  from  other  lips 
than  mine. 

"  I  do  not  know  one  that  will  not''  spoke  up  a 
voice  behind  our  backs.  "  Your  withdrawal  from 
the  circle  of  heirs  did  not  take  from  you  your  right- 
ful claim  to  an  inheritance  which,  according  to  your 
uncle's  will,  could  be  forfeited  only  by  a  failure  to 
arrive  at  the  place  of  distribution  within  the  hour 
set  by  the  testator.  As  I  see  the  matter  now,  this 
appeal  to  the  honesty  of  the  persons  so  collected  was 
a  test  by  which  my  unhappy  client  strove  to  save 
from  the  general  fate  such  members  of  his  miserable 
family  as  fully  recognised  their  sin  and  were  truly 
repentant." 

It  was  Lawyer  Smead.  He  had  lingered  behind 
the  others  to  tell  her  this.  She  was,  then,  no  out- 
cast, but  rich,  very  rich;  how  rich  I  dared  not  ac- 
knowledge to  myself,  lest  a  remembrance  of  the 
man  who  was  the  last  to  perish  in  that  house  of 


428  THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  MIST 

death  should  return  to  make  this  calculation  hateful. 
It  was  a  blow  which  struck  deep — deeper  than  any 
either  of  us  had  sustained  that  night.  As  we  came 
to  realise  it,  I  stepped  slowly  back,  leaving  her  stand- 
ing erect  and  tall  in  the  middle  of  the  roadway,  with 
her  baby  in  her  arms.  But  not  for  long;  soon  she 
was  close  at  my  side  murmuring  softly: 

"  Two  wayfarers  still !  Only,  the  road  will  be 
more  difficult  and  the  need  of  companionship 
greater.  Shall  we  fare  on  together,  you,  I — and  the 
little  child?" 


000  033  583 


